


Over the Hills and Far Away

by nauticalparamour



Series: Over the Hills and Far Away [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalparamour/pseuds/nauticalparamour
Summary: After her guardian, Sirius is taken to jail, Hermione needs a way to come up with money to pay for his fancy lawyer. Working at roadside bar Howl seems like it shouldn't be so bad, until she gets mixed up with biker Fenrir Greyback.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fenrir Greyback
Series: Over the Hills and Far Away [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629532
Comments: 68
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to Hollowg1rl for beta reading this story! You can find me on tumblr at nauticalparamour.

Hermione shielded her eyes from the setting sun, dusky pink sunlight stretching along the horizon, to get a better look at the faded sign, feeling nerves settle into her stomach. Howl was a bar on a crumbling stretch of lonely highway, across the two-lane from a cattle farm that had clearly seen better days, judging from the lack of vegetation. It was in the middle of nowhere, not far down from an empty gas station which seemed to service mainly long-haul semis, and she sensed that there was much more to the story of Howl than she’d known. Honestly, who calls their bar Howl? This wasn’t the kind of place that she would have expected Remus to own.

Sirius, when he’d been dragged away in handcuffs just the week before, told Hermione to go to Remus, that he would be able to help her, but now she was having second thoughts. Feeling tears form in her eyes, she steeled herself, knowing that she  _ had _ to go in. There were no other options.

Her life had been more tumultuous in the past year than it had been in the previous seventeen combined. It started off when her parents had been killed in a fiery car crash, coming home from a dentistry conference in Northern California. It had been devastating losing them both at once, but it was even worse when she’d been told that she was being sent to live with her nearest relative. She’d tried to argue that she was old enough to take care of herself, seeing as she was very nearly eighteen and she’d gotten very good grades at school. The courts begged to differ. In came Sirius Black. Apparently, he was her mother’s grandfather’s great nephew, or some convoluted relation, but it didn’t change the fact that he was her only surviving relative.

Sirius hadn’t been ready to take in a teenage girl, especially one so headstrong and willful as she was, and it had led to more than one screaming match in his tiny house in the middle-of-nowhere Arizona. She’d gone from living in the city, to living in a town of just over two thousand, and it had been a difficult transition.

When she’d first arrived, her new guardian had been a lush, who liked getting in bar fights for fun. But, over the year, as they slowly learned to live together, Sirius also realized that he’d needed to change some of his ways. He needed to be there for Hermione, and she would be there for him, too. He’d helped her get settled into her new high school, and get her life back on track.

So, it had been completely shocking when police had busted into their cottage, and took her new guardian to jail, claiming that he was some kind of drug kingpin! He’d  _ promised _ Hermione that he was innocent, though she privately wondered if he just thought that they couldn’t prove anything. Because it was a drug case, they had frozen all of his assets, meaning that Hermione had no way to help pay for the fancy lawyer he was bound to need. Really, she was just lucky that they let her stay in the house instead of just seizing that too.

He’d told her to go to Remus for assistance, so here she was. If she thought Sirius lived in the middle of nowhere, Howl was even further off the grid, and judging from the state of it’s empty parking lot had an apparently limited clientele. Biting her lower lip, she tilted her head to the side and looked at the faded sign. Really? This place made money? Enough to help her pay for a lawyer? Some things just weren’t adding up and she was beginning to wonder if this was just as shady as it seemed.

Pressing her hand against the door, she walked in slowly. The jukebox was playing some classic country song — Johnny Cash or Johnny Mathis, she wasn’t sure — and Remus was standing behind the bar drying glasses with a rag, looking exceedingly shabby, as he always did.

He looked surprised to see her standing there in his bar, and honestly, Hermione felt just as surprised to  _ actually _ be inside it. Clearing her throat, she smoothed down the front of her shirt. “I am here for a job,” she said, concern evident on her face. She just didn’t understand how this place could sustain itself when it was  _ this _ empty. “Sirius said...you could help me.”

Remus gave her a fond smile, and for a moment, she felt a bit reassured. This was the Remus she knew. Remus and Sirius were best friends, forged through fire, though she wasn’t sure what troubled their past. Sirius never talked to her about it. Remus was just a kind man, who wore plain t-shirts and had interesting scars across his face, but couldn’t possibly be involved in anything nefarious, right? But, looking around the equally shabby bar, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was possibly mixed up in some shady business. “Of course I will help you, Hermione. But I can just lend you the money. You don’t need to work here.”

“With all due respect, Remus, I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be right to take your money without anything in return, especially when I am not sure that I can pay you back,” Hermione said. She hated feeling like a charity case, and since her parents had died, she’d felt like that more often than not.

“You know that Sirius has more than enough money to cover it,” Remus told her, his face a bit concerned. “This isn’t his first time in jail. He can handle himself.”

“But what if he can’t?” Hermione asked, feeling a bit hysterical. “He is all that I have left in the world, Remus, and I can’t bear the thought of him tucked away in some cell for the rest of his life. Now, I’ve got him the best lawyer I could find, but now I need to pay that lawyer. Please give me a job. I am a fast learner. You know I can do it.”

“And school, Hermione? What are you going to do about homework, if you are here working?” Remus asked, knowing that Hermione had always been an extremely studious girl, something that Sirius was simultaneously proud about and thought was rather swotty.

“Fuck school,” Hermione pronounced, feeling all of her nerves about Sirius bubbling up. How was she meant to worry about school when her guardian was locked up in prison? “No offense intended Remus...it’s just...like I said, Sirius is all I have left. Let me worry about homework, okay?”

Remus sighed, looking at her. She’d wore a twin set, hoping that it would make her seem more professional, but now she thought it just made her stand out even more in the roadside bar. “This bar...it’s a little rough and the clientele can be rude. I don’t want you getting hurt. Sirius would never forgive me if I let something happen to you while he was inside.”

Hermione couldn’t stop herself from huffing, blowing some of her wild brown hair away from her face. “Remus, you know me. I am not some kind of Miss Priss. I can get things done and I can help you out. Please just give me a chance.” 

He rubbed a hand across his face, before looking her over once more, his green eyes amused. “Alright, Hermione, but the  _ moment  _ you feel like it’s too much, you just let me know. No judgement.” She got the sense that he thought she was going to quit that same day.

Still, she was so glad that Remus agreed, she gave him the brightest smile. “Thank you Remus, you won’t regret it! Just you wait, I am going to get Sirius out, and then everything can get back to normal.” Internally, she wondered when Sirius became part of “normal” in her life. But, it was true, she supposed, that he really was all she had left and she wasn’t ready to let go of him so soon after realizing what a great guardian he was. She hoped that if she just kept thinking positive thoughts that they might actually come true.

Remus decided to throw her into the thick of it right away. He brought her around the bar, and showed her how to pour a beer and how to pour shots. She’d asked him about mixed drinks, and he gave her a funny little smile. “My patrons aren’t the type to drink mixed drinks,” he told her. She wondered just what kind of patrons he had, but for the first two hours she was there, he didn’t have a single person come in.

There were some other odd rules like never call the police. Apparently, Howl had seen its share of bar fights, but that if something were to happen, she was just supposed to “admonish” the guilty party and then tell them to take it outside if they wanted to fight. She was then to clean up anything that ended up broken, and let him know what happened when she got the chance. But, Remus had reassured her, he wouldn’t let her work alone until she got the hang of it.

The safe was in the backroom, and as soon as she had more than five hundred dollars in the till, she was to zip it in a bag and drop it into the safe. Remus had chuckled, seeing her eyebrows raise in surprise at the notion that this place  _ ever _ did more than five hundred dollars. “I know it doesn’t seem like much now, but it will pick up, once it gets a bit later,” he promised. He’d also told her that some of the clientele might pay way more than the cost of the drink...she was not to ask questions about that, and just drop it right into the safe.

Hermione was realizing that there was really much more than meets the eye about kindly, shy Remus Lupin. She didn’t know exactly what was going on here, but it  _ was _ more than just a bar. Maybe the police hadn’t been so far off about the drugs that they said Sirius was trafficking. After all, he and Remus were very close friends. And, maybe he wasn’t so innocent, as he proclaimed, but he thought that they wouldn’t be able to prove anything.

By the time the sun had gone down, the desert air cooling considerably, a trickle of customers was suddenly a flood and the bar was full and raucous. Hermione and Remus were  _ quite _ busy behind the bar, and she could suddenly understand how this was profitable, pouring beer after beer and whiskey after whiskey. Hermione was a bit glad to know that at least a portion of the bar was legitimate.

A loud rumble caught the attention of Hermione as soon as she heard it in the distance, getting closer and closer. She wondered what it was for a while, but it didn’t take long for her to recognize the sound of a motorcycle engine. Cocking her head to the side, she wondered who it was that was going to come in, the lonesome noise reminding her of Sirius, who had a little Triumph motorcycle.

She felt anticipation build in her body, until the door was wrenched open and the largest man Hermione had ever seen walked into the bar. He had black hair and a full beard to match the black leather of his jacket, covered in patches. He wore a big grin that showed off his perfectly white teeth, and he seemed to delight in making all the other patrons flinch when he walked by. Everyone tried to give him a wide berth, as he made his way to the bar, sitting a few seats down from where Hermione was standing.

Hermione tried desperately  _ not _ to make eye contact with the man, but when she looked up, he was staring at her, bright blue eyes making her feel like she did  _ not _ belong here, and he was trying to decide what to do with her. She swallowed thickly, deciding to ask what he would like to drink, but she was saved by Remus.

“Fenrir,” he greeted, before pulling down a glass and giving the man a generous portion of whiskey.

The man, Fenrir, pointed a finger in her direction, not taking his discerning eyes from her form, making Hermione want to curl up and hide. “Who is this?” he asked Remus.

It made Hermione rankle a bit to have him talk about her like she wasn’t standing right there. As if she wasn’t able to hear him.

Remus ran his hand through his sandy-brown hair, seeming a bit on edge. “Ah, this is Hermione. She is going to be helping me out for a while, with her guardian in jail.” Hermione stiffened, not really wanting all of her business out in the open like that, but she supposed that their whole tiny town already knew about it.

“Sirius?” she heard the man ask, giving her pause. She was wondering just _how_ Sirius knew this man. “Alright,” Fenrir finally agreed on her being there, though she still got the impression that he did not want her to be. “Just...instruct her on the dress code. I never want to see a _fucking_ _cardigan_ in this bar in the future,” he told Remus, though his eyes still hadn’t left her body.

Hermione balked. Before she could say anything to the man — which surely would have been a  _ terrible _ idea — Remus pulled her over to the side. “Hermione, that’s Fenrir. He’s a very...special guest here. Don’t worry if he comes in. I will take care of him,” he assured her.

Hermione nodded, though she did look over Remus’s shoulder, unable to keep her eyes off of Fenrir. He was impossibly tall and muscular to boot. She thought he’d probably be able to snap her in half if he wanted to. Catching her staring, he knocked back his whiskey in one swallow, smirking at her, before standing up and heading off in the direction of the pool tables they kept in the back of the bar.

Remus got her attention again. “Hermione. Seriously, leave him alone. You don’t want the kind of trouble he can bring,” he said. She wanted to argue with Remus, knowing that Fenrir somehow knew Sirius, too. She had all sorts of questions about the man she lived with and the man at the bar, but she would try to listen to Remus.

He’d never led her astray before.


	2. Chapter 2

As much as she hated to admit it, it had taken Hermione much longer than she would have thought to get into the hang of things at the bar. It had been more difficult than you would have thought...pouring the drinks was fairly simple, but it was harder to multi-task and keep the patrons in order. Still, after a few weeks, Hermione had settled into a rhythm that would work for her.

She would go to school in the morning, and head to the bar after classes. Once she was there, she would stand behind the bar, furiously trying to do as much schoolwork as she possibly could get through until the crush of patrons filtered in once the sun went down.

Her few friends at school — Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, Ron and Ginny Weasley — were all highly intrigued by learning that their prim and proper friend was working at a bar, though she was quick to tell them that she would  _ not _ serve them if they came in. She didn’t think that Remus was too bothered with a liquor license, but she wasn’t going to chance it. And, mostly, she didn’t want them to see her in that environment.

At school she still wore  _ blouses _ and ratty old cardigans, which suited her perfectly fine, but that wasn’t allowed at the bar. “The people here, they will think you are uppity if you wear clothes like that, Hermione. I know you want to be professional, but I don’t want you to stick out. The less people take note of you in here, the better,” Remus had told her after the mysterious Fenrir had left the very first night.

She’d tried first with faded old crew neck sweatshirts that belonged to her father before he died, but she usually found that it got much too hot for those in the bar. “Jeans and a tshirt are fine, Hermione,” Remus had told her one day, while her sweaty hair was piled high on her head, sleeves pushed up to her elbows.

From that day, she’d figured out that she would need to be a little more relaxed, a little more loose. She’d gone into Sirius’s room for the first time since he’d been arrested, disappointed to find that it looked like a twister had come through the room, clothes strewn  _ everywhere _ with no indication if it was clean or dirty. She’d taken a day to wash everything, hanging all of his tshirts on the line in the backyard to dry.

Sirius had all  _ sorts _ of tshirts, mostly tour shirts from bands that she probably couldn’t even identify if she wanted. Her guardian was a slender man, so most of the shirts fit her alright, though they were still a bit too big. She promised that once she got a bit more money saved up, she would head to the nearest city and actually buy some tshirts for herself. In a weird way, though, it felt almost comforting, reassuring to wear Sirius’s shirts. Like he was still close to her.

His absence had affected her far more than she thought it would, and once she’d been on her own for a month, she couldn’t deny that she missed him desperately. It only reaffirmed her drive to get him out of jail as soon as possible. She wondered what he would think of her working at the bar...if he would be okay with it, or if he would forbid it.

Remus had been telling the truth when he told her that the clientele was a little bit rough. About half seemed to be long haul truckers, who wanted to get drunk before stumbling back to their cabs to sleep it off for the night. They were the ones with greedy eyes, who always seemed to linger a bit too long on her form. They were also usually bold enough to try and proposition her...you know, they’d be willing to make it worth her while if she would just spread her legs or suck their cocks. “No, babe, come back, just give us a kiss!” they’d call through yellowing teeth while she walked away.

It was enough to push her to drink. Occasionally, people would try to buy her drinks and it happened once or twice that she’d actually taken the shots that people gave her. Remus had caught her once, though and put an end to it immediately. “Sirius wouldn’t care,” she’d argued back to him, hands on her hips. “He lets me drink wine with dinner.”

“Does he now?” Remus asked, a slightly disappointed look on his face. “Well, Sirius isn’t here right now, I am. And what I say, goes.” Sometimes, she couldn’t decide if she hated or loved the slightly paternal way that Remus treated her.

The other half of the clientele seemed to be bikers, loud and rude, and covered in black leather. They were the ones that did the fighting, though luckily it seemed like they tended to actually take it outside if Remus told them to. The longer she was there, the more she was positive that they were the source of the nefarious dealings.  _ They _ were the ones that paid large sums of money to go into the safe.

She’d noticed that they all seemed to have the same patch...a howling wolf. Or was it coyote? She figured that they were all a part of a gang...a  _ motorcycle _ gang...and it wasn’t a huge leap to recognize that Fenrir was the leader. It was obvious that he commanded the room and that people listened to him. And it was impossible not to notice him. He was easily the largest man in the room, always, and he had a deep, boisterous laugh that could cut through all the crowd noise in the bar.

Every time that Fenrir came into the bar, he would spend most of his time just staring at her. No matter where he was in the room — shooting pool, or at a back booth with other members of the gang, or just sitting at the bar — she could feel his piercing blue eyes on her. They would follow every move that she made, and she couldn’t deny that it made her uncomfortable.

She was  _ distinctly _ aware that he did not trust her one bit, but it was fine for her because the feeling was mutual. There was something about him that made her uneasy. He was dangerous, unpredictable. 

Lucky for her, Remus kept good on his promise that she wouldn’t have to deal with him. Whenever Fenrir came in, which was almost every night, Remus took care of him, knowing exactly the other man wanted, even before he sat down, pushing a glass of  _ good _ whiskey across the bar.

Really, for a man that she’d never even spoken to, he was sure weaseling his way into her life and her thoughts.

This night, Hermione was wearing one of Sirius’s tour tshirts — The Replacements from 1992 — and she hoped that they might still be popular enough for the shirt to be considered cool. The white color had yellowed over time to a kind of ivory, but she didn’t mind, as it made her feel closer to her guardian. She’d also had the misfortune of wearing cut off jean shorts for a change, seeing as the temperature that day had been unbearable, the desert heat seeping into the dark bar.

But, it also made for an unusually handsy customer who just couldn’t seem to take no for an answer. Normally, she would just ask Remus to take care of it, but Remus had to leave early that night, and he was trying to give her more responsibility at the bar. The semi driver kept ordering beer from her and was the only other person sitting at the bar, so he was able to spew vile things her way all night, shoving peanuts into his maw as well, so she’d have to bend over to refill the dish.

He’d taken one look at her legs, and then the onslaught had started. “Damn, if I wouldn’t like to see those legs around my waist. How much, baby?”

Hermione had tried to glare at him, and told him that she didn’t do that kind of work, before heading to collect empty glasses from around the room, wanting to get away from him, even for just a few minutes. She wondered briefly about asking one of the scary bikers to remove him, but figured they would just laugh at her.

To her dismay, the man seemed to take this as an invitation to follow her around, getting into her personal space. “Come on, baby, everyone’s got a price. Do you suck dick? Mm, yeah, I’d like to feel those lips around me,” he whispered, his lips uncomfortably close to her face.

She pulled back in shock, wanting, needing to put some space between them. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, causing her to drop the stack of glasses she was holding, sending them shattering on the ground. “Let go of me,” she hissed, needing to get away from him, as soon as possible.

“C’mon baby, just give me one little kiss,” he said, pulling her towards his body. God, she struggled against him, not wanting to be overpowered, but fearing the worst when she couldn’t get him to let go.

“I think she told you to let her go,” a voice rumbled from beside them, and Hermione would know that voice anywhere. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that her heart leapt with joy when she realized that Fenrir was here to  _ save _ her.

The customer didn’t know who he was, obviously, because he didn’t spare the hulking man a second glance. If he was a smarter man, he would have taken note to how the rest of the noise in the bar fell, everyone taking note of what Fenrir was doing. “Butt out, this is between me and her.”

Before the customer could say another word, Fenrir was grabbing him by the back of the neck, forcing him to let Hermione go. He hauled him over, before slamming the man’s head down against the bar in a horrendous crunch. Fenrir pulled the man back up to full height, so that he could stare him down. The man’s nose was clearly broken and he had blood running down his face. “And now it’s between you and me. Because you see this girl-” Fenrir turned the man’s head, hand gripping his jaw tight enough to make him whimper, so that he could look at Hermione’s shocked face once again “is under  _ my _ protection. Now, don’t you owe her a tip?”

The man fumbled, pulling his wallet from a pocket, before pulling out all the dollar bills he had in his possession, throwing them on the ground by Hermione’s feet. He was clearly afraid for his life, with the way he’d completely wilted under Fenrir’s presence. Or perhaps he  _ did _ know who Fenrir was.

Fenrir put the man back on his feet, taking one look at his sniveling face. Fenrir shook his head, a laugh on his lips, clearly  _ enjoying _ the way that the man was nearly pissing himself from fear. Before the man could react, Fenrir punched him in the stomach once more for good measure, sending him sprawling on the ground. “Get the fuck out of here. I never want to see you in here again.”

Shuffling to his feet, the man ran out, not sparing Hermione or Fenrir a second glance. A broad grin on his face, clearly proud of himself, he turned back to Hermione, seeing her still cowering against the bar. “Pick that up, Peach.” He pointed towards the floor, where the dollar bills littered the floor. “Then get me a whiskey.”

After seeing the kind of damage he could do to a grown man with just one move, Hermione hurried to do as he said, pocketing nearly two hundred dollars. She briefly considered giving the money to Remus, but then she thought about Sirius. When she made her way back around the bar, Fenrir was already wiping the blood of his hand with one of the bar rags.

She got a clean glass out and poured the whiskey, before thinking about what he said, about her being under his protection. Handing him the glass, she looked at him with flared nostrils. “I don’t need your protection,” she said, furious, not wanting to get involved in... _ whatever _ it was he did.

Fenrir laughed at her. “So tough.” The way he said it made it seem like a compliment. He leaned back to get a better look at her face, pushing his dark hair out of his face. “It seems like you do need my protection Peach, or would you rather I had just let that man have his way with you?”

Hermione shook her head, annoyed with his violence, annoyed with the way he kept calling her Peach, annoyed with how weak she’d felt  _ until _ he’d showed up. “Of course not. But I can handle myself.”

“Whatever you say,” Fenrir said, finally, before standing from the bar to head towards one of the empty pool tables. She tried desperately not to look his way for the rest of the night, the money burning a hole in her jean shorts, when she thought about the way that he’d protected her, when he really didn’t have to. Their eyes met more than once through the night, and when it was finally time to leave, Hermione was exhausted.

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Hermione hadn’t told Remus about the handsy man the last time she was left alone, but he’d found out about it nonetheless. She scowled, thinking that Fenrir must have told the protective barkeep what had gone down, because she couldn’t think of who else it would be. She was kind of disappointed with the huge customer...wasn’t snitching supposed to be looked down upon in his kind of lifestyle?

“I suppose you want some of the money then?” Hermione had huffed, her hands resting on her hips. It was true that she did feel bad for keeping it all, but it was going to go a long way for Sirius, so she’d squirreled it away.

“Of course not, Hermione. Your tips are yours,” Remus said, a funny little smile on his face. “But, you can be sure that I won’t be leaving you alone again.”

“I was handling myself just fine,” Hermione said stubbornly, her jaw jutting upwards towards him, hoping that she looked tougher than she felt. “I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not how I heard it. I think you should consider yourself lucky that Fenrir came in that night,” Remus said, pointedly. It was odd how they never really discussed their most...interesting customer. Remus had initially told her that he was dangerous, but then he seemed okay with Fenrir being her protector. It was confusing to say the least. Remus rubbed his hand down his face, as though he were exhausted dealing with the situation. “Maybe I should get you a shotgun.”

Hermione gasped in surprise. She most certainly did  _ not _ want to be responsible for shooting someone, but at the same time, she thought it might be nice to have a little  _ extra _ protection. Jesus, she could just imagine how  _ upset _ her middle-class dentist parents would feel seeing their baby girl wielding a shotgun in a seedy roadside bar, chasing off handsy truckers. It was preposterous. They would be so disappointed.

True to his word, Remus hadn’t left her alone at the bar one time since they had their little chat, and about a week later, a shotgun appeared in the little office behind the bar. Remus had shown her how to cock it, but told her that most people would be frightened enough just staring down its barrel. She’d rolled her eyes and then went out to refill the little bowls of peanuts on the tables.

It was a slow Tuesday when Remus finally had to leave her alone again. He apologized profusely, asking if she could stay until closing. Apparently, he had to go deal with something with his son and his crazy ex — a pink haired woman with some kind of fairy name. He never talked about them too much, just that they lived in Tucson, and he wished he had custody of the little boy. Hermione had shooed him out of the bar, and told him not to worry. She had the shotgun after all.

Remus had looked grateful, rushing out to his truck, leaving Hermione all alone, with just one regular at the bar, an old man who never talked to her, just waved her over for more boilermakers. She’d sat with her calculus homework spread out in front of her, and she got loads of it done while the minutes ticked by, bringing no additional patrons.

She was beginning to think that it was going to be an exceedingly boring night until she heard the telltale rumble of motorcycle engines drawing nearer. She wondered if it was going to be Fenrir, or just some other members of his gang. Though Hermione would never admit it, she felt some little anticipation or hope build that it would be Fenrir walking through the doors.

She wasn’t disappointed.

Fenrir walked in the bar first, followed by four people she’d never seen before, but looking at them certainly gave her the shivers. Fenrir snapped his fingers at her, while he was leading the new group into the little room off of the main room, where Fenrir sometimes brought other members of his gang. Hermione hadn’t been in there yet, seeing as Remus  _ always _ served them. “Peach, whiskey,” he ordered.

Hermione bristled at being ordered around by the man,  _ and _ by the fact that he called her that nickname again. Still, she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself considering how sketchy his company seemed. Grabbing some clean glasses, she arranged them on a tray, before pulling down the whiskey Remus generally reserved for Fenrir. She wiped her suddenly sweaty hands down the front of her tshirt — a navy blue shirt with a union jack and the word Triumph on it which had been one of Sirius’s favorites — trying to calm down some of her nerves.

Holding her head high, Hermione strode into the back room, using her hip to push the door open, and internally cursing by how much her hands were suddenly shaking. The glasses were clinking nervously against one another, until she set the table down on the circular table in the center of the room. Staring down at the tray, she opened the bottle, before pouring a generous shot into each of the glasses, handing them out to the assorted crew in the room.

She picked up the tray and the bottle, and was ready to turn and leave the room as quickly as she possibly could, only to have a hand shoot out and grab her by the wrist. “Leave the bottle,” one of the new men said.

Hermione looked up cautiously, through her lashes at the group. Compared to these four, Fenrir was somehow...comforting in comparison. While he was much bigger than the others, this group seemed to have some kind of an edge that made them seem more dangerous.

Two of the men had the same haircuts — undercut, with their coal black hair slicked back, almost like some old greaser. The other man at the table had a clean shaven head, but from his eyebrows, she could tell that he was blond. The man with the shaved head pulled out a small canister from inside his coat, shaking some white powder out onto the fleshy part of his hand between his thumb and forefinger. Her eyes widened, seeing him snort the powder, and she realized that he was doing drugs, right in front of her!

The third person at the table was a woman, her hair as dark black as the other two men, but it was wild and curly, not unlike her own. She had dark red lips, and a mean smirk on her face, her head cocked to the side while she looked Hermione up and down. “Aren’t you going to introduce us Fenrir?” the woman asked, prodding him for more information on her. This was the exact opposite of what Hermione wanted to happen.

“Yes, who is this delectable Peach?” the man holding her arm asked with a leer. He used his other hand to caress the back of her thigh, and she desperately wished she hadn’t worn jean shorts again...it was much more trouble than it was worth. She pulled her arm out of his grip viciously, leveling Fenrir with a stare. He’d gotten her into this mess, so it would do for him to get her out of it too.

“Hermione,” Fenrir said gruffly. “She’s the new barmaid, helping out Remus.” His gravelly voice held a hint of concern, and it did nothing to sooth Hermione’s fraying nerves. “This is Tom, Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan.”

The man holding her arm — called Rabastan — turned to her, his green eyes making no effort to hide the fact that he was ogling her. “You know Fenrir, in our bar, we don’t let our women wear this kind clothing,” he tsked, shaking his head back and forth, in mock disappointment.

“She’s so  _ cute _ ,” Bellatrix said, as though the word was a curse. Hermione looked the woman over, with her black leather jacket, graying black top and...you guessed it, black jeans, she wasn’t much of a style icon herself. Really, with how tight her clothing was, it was a surprise that she could even walk properly, let alone ride on the back of a motorcycle.

“Why would you cover up all the goods?” Rabastan asked, his hand reaching the part of her leg that met the cheek of her ass, and Hermione hissed, trying to move further away from him. She did  _ not _ want this man touching her, and for once, she was wishing that Remus hadn’t decided to leave her alone. And Fenrir! Just the other week, he’d claimed that she was under his protection, but...where was all of that protection now, when he was letting some stranger manhandle her right in front of his eyes?

Rodolphus, the man with the shaved head, snorted another bump of what Hermione could only assume was cocaine. He gave her a hideous grin when he looked up. “Yeah, I can imagine her dancing on a bar — some stilettos on and no top.”

Hermione wanted to scream. If  _ that _ was what was going to be expected of her to work at Howl, she wouldn’t hesitate to leave as soon as possible. She wasn’t going to take her top off, when she already got enough unwanted attention as it were. She certainly couldn’t see Remus asking that of her either, or she was sure that Sirius, who was surprisingly protective of her, would come after him.

Fenrir grinned at Rodolphus. “While I am sure that would make a pretty picture,” he locked his blue eyes with her terrified brown ones, “Hermione isn’t one of our women. She just works for Remus, not the Iron Wolves.” She was surprised to hear what his little gang name was, finally confirming that it was a wolf patch on his jacket, not a coyote.

“Rabastan, enough slobbering,” the other man, who hadn’t spoken the whole time, demanded. Hermione had figured out as soon as they entered the bar that this man was the “leader” from the way that the other three followed after him.

Hermione tried not to make eye contact with him, but she felt arrested when his dark, nearly bottomless eyes met hers. This was the one called Tom, and his voice was icy...cutting. Still, she was glad that he’d gotten Rabastan to remove his hand from her person. “Thank you,” she said quietly, controlling her reactions when she realized that all four of them wore swastika patches on their leather jackets, in addition to 1% patches, and other regalia. So they were some kind of neo nazis, then. “Will you be needing anything else?”

Rabastan opened his mouth, and she wanted to roll her eyes for falling into such a stupid trap. To her relief, Tom cut him off before he could say anything vile. “Rabastan, enough. We don’t need anything else. Get the fuck out of here, and don’t disturb us again.”

She gave one lingering look to Fenrir, trying to communicate with her eyes that she didn’t want  _ these people _ here. It was a bit fruitless, as he couldn’t understand what her pointed looks meant, and even further, she didn’t have  _ any _ say in the kind of clientele that frequented the bar. Not needing to be told twice, Hermione nearly sprinted from the little backroom, to the relative safety of hiding behind the bar.

Her hands were still shaking when she poured herself a shot of tequila. Throwing it back with a grimace, she knew that Remus would be disappointed if he knew. But for once, she didn’t care. She needed something to take the edge off after a run in with those people. If she had her way, she would never see any of them again, but some dread settling in her belly made her think otherwise.

She just wondered what in the world Fenrir had gotten himself into messing around with these kind of people. Yes, of course, he was in an outlaw motorcycle gang, but...here she was thinking he might actually be one of the good ones. Relatively speaking, of course.

Hunkering down, she tried to focus on her homework. Hermione was disappointed to find that not even calculus could hold her attention.


	4. Chapter 4

It was two hours before Fenrir’s guests left the bar, Rabastan making a rude gesture towards her on the way out, before the man called Tom was hitting him on the back of the head, a snarl on his handsome face. Hermione briefly wondered if he actually thought that it might work and make her want to be with him, or if he was just trying to make her uncomfortable.

She watched with thinly veiled disgust as Fenrir walked them to the door, shutting it behind them, and turning the open sign off. It was nearing bar time, anyway. Hermione could hear the rumble of their motorcycle engines revving, drowning out the sound of the lonely jukebox. She watched in fascination as Fenrir slammed his fist against the steel door, as though he were annoyed.

They were the only two people in the bar when he crossed the floor, slumping into the stool across from her. Fenrir ran his hands through his long, dark hair, pushing it out of his face. “Whiskey, please,” he demanded, though his voice was almost meek.

Hermione could feel her nostrils flare in annoyance, but she couldn’t deny that it was nice that he’d said please. It was a start at least. “Really?” she asked, though she’d already pulled him a glass and uncorked the bottle that he prefered, pouring him three fingers of the amber liquid. “I was kind of hoping that I could leave. The bar is closed after all.”

“You don’t want to sit here and shoot the breeze with me?” Fenrir asked, drinking half of the glass in one go.

“Remus said that I didn’t have to serve you. That he would take care of you when you came in,” Hermione said, not really wanting to talk to him when he had brought those awful people into the bar. If she ever needed proof that he was into questionable activities that had been that.

“Well, Remus isn’t here right now,” Fenrir said, staring down at the bar. “Come on, just distract me for a little while, and then you can go home. Why don’t you get yourself a drink, Peach?”

Hermione looked at him, not sure what he was playing at. Was he just trying to get her in trouble with Remus, or did he know that she occasionally indulged? “No thank you. You want to talk? Fine. How about you tell me why you always call me Peach instead of my name?”

Fenrir did not hide his smirk at that, cautiously looking at her face. “I don’t think you want to know,” he said, but seeing that stubborn little look on her face, and arms crossed over her chest, he knew that she wasn’t going to leave it. “It’s because your ass reminds me of a juicy peach, especially when you wear those little shorts, and you can see just a bit of cheek.”

She made a noise of disgust, and threw her hands up in the air. “You are a pig,” she said, before grabbing the bottle of tequila and pouring herself a draw. She was done caring  _ what _ Fenrir Greyback thought of her or her habits. “Speaking of my ass, I thought that I was  _ under your protection _ . What the fuck was that in there then, letting that guy fondle me like that?” she practically snarled at him.

Fenrir finished the rest of his drink, before reaching across the bar to grab the bottle, pouring another drink for himself. “Well,  _ Peach _ ,” he said, his mouth caressing each letter in the word, making Hermione’s tummy go a bit twisty. “Those are the kind of people that you don’t want to piss off.”

He pressed his hand to his face, rubbing his thumb and forefingers across his forehead. His mind was still swimming with the request...no  _ demand _ that Tom Riddle had made. Riddle and his gang — the  _ Death Eaters  _ — were well known in the southwest, and they weren’t the kind of people to take lightly. If they wanted you to do something, you should damn well do it. Fenrir’s business mostly revolved around smuggling cocaine up across the border from Mexico, after which they would cut it several times, before selling to to lower level dealers. Riddle was...well, they had their hands in  _ everything _ — but they specialized in heroin and crystal meth. Their tactics were brutal, if you didn’t do what Riddle wanted, you were liable to end up dead on a lonely stretch of road.

So needless to say, he wasn’t exactly enthused by the idea of helping Riddle to smuggle some of that heroin over the border too. Riddle explained that his contact had recently become  _ unreliable _ and it would only be temporary, but Fenrir knew it would spiral out of control. Once he went into business with them, there was no getting out.

And he didn’t want to get in with them in the first place. They were into some Aryan brotherhood shit, and being that he didn’t know who his daddy was, but it was clear he would never be described  _ Aryan _ . Those kinds of ideals were something that he couldn’t abide by.

When he looked back up at Hermione, she was obviously getting more and more annoyed with something, and from the look in her brown eyes, she was going to blurt out whatever was on her mind before she could help herself. “I can’t believe that you just let them do cocaine in the bar!”

He couldn’t help himself. His laughter was rich and throaty and it filled the whole bar, and once he stopped he could tell that she was  _ very _ clearly annoyed with him. “Peach, who do you think  _ gave  _ him the cocaine?”

Her little self-righteous gasp was kind of cute. God, where on Earth did Remus find someone so naive? And this was the girl who had been living with Sirius for the past year? It almost felt wrong, to corrupt someone like her at a bar like this.

“You gave them cocaine?” she asked. 

“Yeah, I am a drug runner...that’s kind of what I do. Besides, they were guests, and you want to make sure they feel at home,” Fenrir said, with a roll of his eyes. Of course, they weren’t  _ invited _ guests, but it was clear that the meeting was going to happen one way or the other.

She nibbled on her lower lip, as though she were thinking on a question and not sure if she should ask it or not. Though, knowing Hermione, of course she was going to ask it — she was too curious not to. He wondered briefly if she had any idea how seductive he found that little move, though he was certain she didn’t. It was no secret that Hermione did  _ not _ approve of him at all, and so there was no way that she was doing anything for his benefit, to gain more attention from him.

“Do...do you do cocaine?” she asked, her voice stuttering a little over the words, as though she were committing some kind of faux pax asking him that.

He chuckled again. “I have been known to indulge on occasion,” he said, giving her a wide, toothy grin. “I never do it while I am discussing business though.” She made a little noise of disgust, low in the back of her throat, completely involuntary. “Maybe you should try it. Might help you stay up so you can get through school and the long nights here.” It was mostly a joke, but he couldn’t resist it.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. “I don’t even know why Remus would allow you or your  _ illegal _ little motorcycle... _ outlaw... _ gang! Into his bar in the first place. Have you been intimidating him or something?”

He wanted to roll his eyes at her words, but he knew that she clearly had a much  _ rosier _ picture of Remus than he did. Of course, the way that Remus acted — kind and bumbling and awkward — it would be easy to not know about his more devious past. “Let’s get something clear — Remus isn’t some innocent barkeep who got intimidated into opening his doors to us. He  _ invited  _ us.”

“Why would he ever do that?” Hermione asked. “Aside from the money of course...I suppose I could see how that could be worth his while.”

“You don’t even know, Remus, do you?” Fenrir asked, his voice low and the dangerous edge slipping back into it. “Did you know he was a member of the Iron Wolves? That he rode with me for  _ years _ ?”

Hermione looked at him, her brown eyes reading his face shrewdly. As though she was trying to figure out if he was lying about it. “No, I didn’t,” she said finally, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He supposed that if Sirius being arrested had been a surprise for her, hearing that Remus Lupin was previously in an outlaw motorcycle gang might be something that finally broke her.

“Didn’t you ever wonder how he got those scars on his face?” Fenrir prodded further, wondering just what she knew. How could you not be a little bit curious if you saw someone with three massive scars stretching across your face — looking as though you’d been mauled by a bear or a wolf? Of course, he figured that Hermione was so  _ perfect _ she would look past skin deep. Fenrir couldn’t resist rolling his eyes.

“Of course I have,” Hermione hissed. “But, it’s obvious that he is self-conscious about them and so I didn’t want to pry. I don’t see how it’s any of my business anyway.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, and Fenrir wondered if she was cold or just nervous. Unbidden, his mind supplied an image of Hermione in the outfit that Rodolphus had suggested. She would definitely be cold in that. Not that he would ever suggest she would wear it. Bellatrix was right, she was  _ cute _ , but...he kind of liked it.

He wasn’t sure why he needed to tell her about Remus’s previous misdeeds, but he wanted to. Maybe it was because he wanted her to see that he wasn’t so bad when compared to a man that she obviously admired quite a bit. “Back when Remus was still fully in the Iron Wolves, we were expanding territory,” he started the story, keeping his voice low, and enjoying the way that she leaned forward so that she could hear better. Obviously, she was intrigued. “We got into it with a coyotaje — you know people smugglers?”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “Of course I know what a Coyote is, Fenrir. I’ve lived in Arizona for over a year now.”

“Well, they got a hold of old Remus one night after he’d been out drinking in a little town near Nogales. They wanted to send a message to us, and they held him down, and cut up his face,” Fenrir said, sliding his finger from cheek to cheek over his nose.

Hermione looked horrified at his words, but also, slightly curious. “What happened?” she asked, clearly with baited breath.

Fenrir leaned back into his chair. “They left him outside, tied to his motorcycle. The bar owner didn’t find him until the next afternoon, and by that point he was delirious from the blood loss and the heat, and he was sunburnt to a crisp. Took a few weeks in the hospital before he could leave, and then he told me that he wanted out of the Wolves. Couldn’t do it anymore.”

She looked as though she might cry for Remus, as his injuries were so shocking. It was kind of funny, he was almost completely desensitized to that kind of violence — God knows, he’d done worse to many men — but it was odd to try and see it from her eyes. Here she was, barely eighteen, and just trying to scrape it by, when she should be off on some kind of homecoming committee. It was time that she woke up to the kinds of shit that went down in a place like this if she was going to keep working at the bar.

“And so you just let him leave?” Hermione asked, her mind filled with rumors that once you joined an outlaw motorcycle gang, you could  _ never _ leave it.

Fenrir finished the rest of his drink, his mind already going a bit fuzzy with all the whiskey he’d had that night. “Of course I did. Well he’s still affiliated of course, he just doesn’t...do any of the work for us any more.” He watched Hermione and noticed the dark circles that were peeking underneath her eyes. It was getting rather late, and he supposed it was time to leave. “Come on, Peach. It’s past your bedtime.”

He stood, and helped her shut the lights off in the bar, waiting for her to lock the door behind her once they stepped out into the cool air. She bid him a terse goodnight, and though he could tell that she still didn’t like him, he could sense that she  _ was _ warming up to him a bit. He waited until she got into her car — a beat up, red pickup truck — and turned out onto the highway before he got on his motorcycle.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione was eternally grateful for Harry Potter driving her up to the jail to visit Sirius on the first Saturday that she’d been permitted to visit him. It had taken a lot of arguments from the lawyer that she’d hired, but eventually the judge had relented and allowed her bi-weekly visits with her guardian.

It had been weeks since she’d seen him last — being hauled out of their shared home, shirtless — and she’d been counting down the days until Saturday, when of course the old pickup she’d been driving around finally gave out. It needed a new transmission, according to the mechanic, and she was making  _ barely  _ enough money to pay for the lawyer, there was no way that she could pay to have the car fixed too. Sirius was more important.

She’d bemoaned to her friends on Friday that she was going to have to miss the visit, when Harry had told her he’d take her up to the jail. Harry always had a lot of sympathy for her, having lost his own parents when he was very young, so they had a lot in common. Though, Hermione had many good years of memories with her parents, while Harry had almost none. He often told her he thought it was probably easier for him, but she didn’t know. While Hermione had Sirius, Harry had been raised by his Aunt and Uncle, two rather awful individuals in Hermione’s opinion.

They made the hour drive up in record time, enjoying one another’s company without the Weasleys hanging around them. Of course, they liked the Weasleys, but they had a way of getting a bit annoying in large doses. Not to mention that Hermione was absolutely  _ sick _ of how  _ sorry _ they felt for her. She didn’t need their pity.

The jail was smaller than Hermione would have imagined, and she recognized Sirius’s attorney standing near the entrance. Giving Harry a quick sideways hug, she thanked him for driving her up. She’d been very grateful that he’d agreed to dink away the time until she was ready to go back home, when she was sure that he wouldn’t mind seeing Sirius too. Apparently, Sirius and his dad had been friends years ago, so Sirius was always a bit of a hero in Harry’s eyes. But, Sirius had only been permitted  _ her _ as a visitor, so Harry couldn’t join even if he wanted to. “They’ve only given me an hour with him, so meet you back here then?” she confirmed.

Once she got out of the car, she walked towards the attorney. He was wearing a wool suit in a light grey, despite the sweltering heat. Hermione looked down at herself, wearing jean shorts and her comforting, ratty blouse, and wondered if she should have dressed up.

Draco Malfoy was a handsome man, there was no denying that, with his pale, blond hair and grey, mercurial eyes. But, Hermione also got the impression that he was rather full of himself. When he tried to wrap her in a hug, she flinched a bit. He gave her a smile that she was sure her parents would have loved — straight and perfectly white. “Come on, I am sure that Mr. Black is eager to see you.”

God, she wouldn’t be tolerating this if he hadn’t come  _ highly _ recommended for drug cases.

They were led to a tiny room with a metal table in the middle, and two chairs on their side of the table. Malfoy took the chair in the corner of the room, perhaps recognizing that he had  _ no _ place in this conversation, but unwilling to leave them unsupervised either.

Hermione sat in the cold chair, her leg shaking with nervous energy while she waited for Sirius to be brought in. It didn’t take long before a guard was leading him in. She jumped up from her seat, and wrapped Sirius tightly in a hug, catching him off guard. He quickly relaxed, wrapping his arms around her, and pressing his nose into her hair. Hermione let his smell wash over her — tobacco and leather — never thinking that she would have missed her wayward guardian so much. “God, Hermione, are you a sight for sore eyes,” he said.

Before she could respond, the guard was hauling Sirius over towards the other chair, handcuffing one of his arms to the chair. “Is that really necessary?” Hermione asked, the guard, annoyed that her guardian was being fettered with her. “It isn’t like he’s committed a violent crime.” The man didn’t spare her a glance before leaving the room as silently as he’d entered. 

Hermione scowled at his back, before returning to her chair. Her hand shot out to grab Sirius’s free one in hers, while she took a moment to drink him in. He was as handsome as ever, with dark wavy hair that was reaching his shoulders now, but his beard was neatly trimmed. “You need a haircut,” she whispered.

Sirius laughed at her — that barking laugh of his that she’d come to miss — shaking his head. “Only you, princess, would think of cutting this glorious hair.”

She rolled her eyes at him, having forgotten how vain he could be sometimes. He was wearing a pink striped jumpsuit — honestly, if there was something criminal Sirius  _ had _ done it was still managing to look good in a pink jumpsuit — but it was unbuttoned down to his sternum, showing a new tattoo. It was some kind of weird symbol, perhaps like an astrological sign? She groaned. “Ugh, Sirius, did you really let someone in here tattoo you? I don’t want you to get something...it  _ can’t _ be hygienic.”

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” Sirius said, giving her hand a squeeze. “I made sure to check out the guy’s other work. I want to know about what  _ you’ve _ been up to.”

She blushed, looking down at her lap. This was the part of the meeting that she was dreading telling him about. “I got a job at Howl, helping out Remus behind the bar,” she said quietly, counting down the moments until Sirius had a total meltdown. She swore she could feel his heart rate increasing through his hand.

“WHAT?” he roared, and for a moment Hermione was glad that he was handcuffed to the chair, otherwise, she thought he might have flipped the table. “Look at me, Hermione,” he demanded. Once she complied, he continued. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I needed money to pay for your lawyer, Sirius,” Hermione said, willing him to understand, but she was positive that he wouldn’t ever be okay with her working there. His little blow up just confirmed to her that he’d always known  _ exactly _ what kind of bar Remus ran, and now that she knew more about Remus’s past, she wondered just how innocent Sirius was.

“Remus would have lent you the money,” Sirius insisted, and she watched as her clenched and unclenched the hand that wasn’t holding her’s in tightly controlled anger.

“I know, but I might have never been able to pay him back,” Hermione said, not breaking eye contact with Sirius. “I needed to do this my way, Sirius, because I  _ can’t  _ lose you. You are all that I have left, and...I promise that I am going to get you out of here, Sirius. If It’s the last thing I do. I  _ promise. _ ” She could feel the tears forming in her eyes and she desperately tried to blink them away before they fell, not wanting Sirius to feel worse than he undoubtedly did.

“Alright,” he said finally, his breath leaving him in a great whoosh. “Alright, I will trust you on this Hermione. I just hate that you are having to deal with this when you are supposed to be having fun. It’s your senior year — wait, are you making sure to keep up with your school work?”

Hermione hid her giggle behind her free hand that Sirius’s primary thoughts were on her going out with boys or going to football games, and causing a ruckus as part of the general culture of being in your last year of school — Kings of the Campus. There was a part of Sirius that had never grown up out of that mindset. The fact that he even brought up her homework and tests was proof of how much he’d changed since she’d entered his life. “Yes, my school work hasn’t suffered. I will bring my progress reports next time I visit,” she promised.

Sirius ran his hand down his face in agony. “Oh, I just can’t stop thinking about you in that awful bar. You are looking after yourself right...you haven’t gotten any unwanted  _ attention _ ?” He chanced a look at her face to see if she would flinch or give anything away.

“Remus is always there with me,” Hermione lied. Internally, she was glad that Remus hadn’t told him about the man who’d gotten a bit too handsy not that long ago. And there was  _ no way _ that she was going to tell him about her interactions so far with Fenrir Greyback, especially upon the realization that his attention wasn’t unwanted. “And you know that I can handle myself. Yes, sometimes people can be a bit...crude, but it’s nothing that I can’t handle.”

Before he was able to push the issue further, the guard was back and telling her that her time with Sirius was up. She wrapped him in one more tight hug, reiterating her promise to him that she was going to get him out.

She walked silently with Sirius’s lawyer to the front of the building. Once they were back in the blinding sunlight, Hermione reached into her pocket and handed him a folded check, the amount for the first payment in the installment plan they had set up to pay for Sirius’s legal fees. Hermione had been depositing all of her cash into a newly opened bank account. The woman at the bank clearly thought that she was a stripper, bringing in wads of small bills to deposit, and despite Hermione’s protests that she was a  _ bartender _ , the woman always looked down her nose at her.

“You know...Hermione...I was wondering if you might consider going out on a date with me sometime?” Malfoy asked, giving her that self-assured smile of his. His asking her was merely a formality in his mind, because who would ever pass up a chance to go out on a date with him?

Hermione recoiled again, aghast at the  _ gall _ of him, to ask her out on a date when she was already emotionally distraught from visiting her guardian in  _ jail _ . Just who did he think he was? “I don’t know if that is a great idea, Mr. Malfoy, while we have a working relationship,” she said, keeping her voice even, and scanning the parking lot, praying that Harry would show up soon.

Malfoy looked down at the check that he held in his hands, as though he were thinking it through. Surely, Hermione thought, a  _ lawyer _ would have an understanding of how it could be a conflict of interest if she went out with him. “Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, impudently. 

She wanted to roll her eyes at him — as  _ if  _ that was the only reason that someone wouldn’t want to go out with him. “No, I just...well I’ve got a lot on my mind right now, Mr. Malfoy, and I am just trying to focus on getting Sirius out of jail. I don’t have time to date.”

He looked as though he were about to argue with her more — leave it to a lawyer to argue — when Harry’s car finally returned to the parking lot. Running her hands through her wild hair, Hermione apologized to Harry. “Look, my ride is here. I’ve gotta go. I will bring the next check to our next meeting,” she said in a rush, before leaving before he could say another word. She hurried down the steps and hoped into Harry’s car.

Her friend looked at her with concern on his face. “Are you alright? Did everything go okay?”

Hermione gave him a smile. “Yes, I’m fine, it’s just...Sirius’s lawyer can be a bit...smarmy,” she said, finally settling on the word. She couldn’t tell Harry that he was pushy, or he might do something silly. Instead, she flipped on the radio, eager to return home.

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

After meeting with Sirius, Hermione had been reinvigorated to work harder at the bar. She was growing better at her job, and she'd begun to start getting better tips as well. Remus was a little irritated that the people seemed to like her more, just because she was a pretty girl. "All you have to do is bat your eyelashes at them and they are falling over themselves to give you money."

Hermione would roll her eyes at him. "As if I bat my eyes, Remus," she argued. Hermione was surprised by how fatherly Remus had become towards her. Of course, she knew Remus from before Sirius went to jail, but they'd never had any meaningful conversations before. She just knew him as one of Sirius's friends, and that was that. Now that she was under his watchful eye at Howl, he was always looking out for her.

And always trying to tell her what to do. She knew that Remus meant well, but, he wasn't _actually_ her father or her guardian, and she was a legal adult at this point. Not to mention the fact that she hated being told what to do by anyone.

With weeks going by of her working at Howl, the regulars started to warm up to her as well. She was no longer an outsider who wore cardigans and gasped when they swore or threw a punch or two. They even started to listen to _her_ if she told them to break it up or take it outside.

The members of Fenrir's gang — the Iron Wolves — had been curious about her at first, but once Fenrir had taken her under his _protection_ — as worthless as she found that, personally — they seemed to open up to her as well. There was even one boy called Theo, who liked to talk to her at the bar until he was called back to whatever it was the Iron Wolves did there.

She _might_ have made it a point to flirt with the young man, who was maybe only a year or two older than she was, just because she knew how much it annoyed Remus _and_ Fenrir both. It didn't hurt that Theo was rather good to look at, too, with his caramel colored hair and brilliant blue eyes. He had a slow smile that he reserved just for her that she would return with sly glances and a bitten lip. She would gush over his tattoos, asking him about what each and every one meant to him, and asking if it hurt, and generally spending a long time with her hands on his biceps.

He'd even showed her his gun, once, though Hermione had been too shocked by it to act coy. It was a bit of cold water to be reminded that these men weren't just cute little puppies that she could toy with, but rather, serious criminals who would "take care" of people who got in their way. And, well, of course, while she should have known that probably everyone in the bar _had_ a gun — come on, they were in _Arizona_ after all — it was another to actually see one.

When Theo had asked if she wanted to hold his gun, she thought he was making a rather poor innuendo.

One thing that hadn't changed was feeling the heavy weight of Fenrir's gaze on her during several times of night. In the beginning, she knew it was because he didn't trust her, perhaps thinking that she was a narc or something, but now, she wasn't entirely sure why he was still watching her. Maybe he, like Remus, thought that she needed protection at all times. That she couldn't handle herself.

She found herself watching Fenrir a lot, though, too. He was a striking looking man, that was certain. She found that he often had a smile on his face, laughing at some bawdy joke or just grinning at whatever mayhem was yet to come. If she had to guess, she would say that Fenrir probably enjoyed chaos. He certainly enjoyed making people fear him, and it was clear that within the Iron Wolves, he was the leader.

And how could he not be? He easily towered over everyone else who came into the bar — her in particular — and he looked as if he could take on anyone in a fist fight, with broad shoulders and strong arms. He had a beard that Hermione wished looked scraggly, but mostly, it just made him look more attractive to her dismay.

She'd noticed that he didn't have as many tattoos as most of the others in the gang, but she could still see some lettering across his knuckles and at least one on his right arm, and she longed to ask him what it was, just for her curiosity's sake, not because she _cared_ or anything, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. His long, dark hair was usually down, except when he played pool, in which case he would tie it up, showing off a thick neck.

He had bright blue eyes that seemed to fill with mirth, and always found their way to her, and he drank whiskey by the mouthful, and...

God, she hated him.

He knew just what to do to get under her skin, and irritate her, and what was worst of all is that he seemed to enjoy it.

Before she could think on Fenrir too much longer, Remus called her over to start shutting down the bar. The patrons shuffled out, having been told it was bar time, and Hermione hurried around the tables to collect the glasses so that they could clean them. By the time that she returned behind the bar, she noticed Remus looking quite tired.

Feeling pity in her heart, she knew she was going to regret doing this later. "Go home, Remus. I can close up here." When he looked like he was going to protest, she cut him off. "You have court early in the morning. Really, go get some rest." She knew that Remus was trying to get partial custody of his son, a boy called Teddy, who he carried a picture of in his wallet, and his ex-girlfriend was making things very difficult on him. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Remus did have good fatherly tendencies, and she was positive that _he_ would be a positive in the boy's life.

Grateful, Remus tossed her the keys, before leaving her behind. She went through all the steps to close the bar as quickly as possible, knowing that Harry would be there soon to give her a ride home. She still hadn't saved up enough money to replace her transmission, but she was positive that she would be able to soon.

She waited outside on the stoop of the bar, listening to the electric sound of the sign from the next door gas station buzzing away, telling her the current price of diesel. It was getting colder every day, especially at night, and she wished that she had a little more cover than jean shorts and a tshirt.

Looking at her watch, she swore under her breath. She'd been waiting there for half an hour now, and Harry still hadn't shown up. She knew that he probably hadn't been able to sneak out of his Aunt and Uncle's house, then, seeing as they were really quite strict. She hoped that he didn't get in too much trouble on her behalf.

Standing, she kicked at the dirt, annoyed that she'd told Remus to leave. He definitely would have given her a ride, but now she was stuck out here in the middle of _fucking_ nowhere. She was fourteen miles from home and there was no way that she was going to walk back. Nibbling her lower lip, she figured that she could just go back in and sleep in the little office behind the bar.

As she was about to put the key back into the door, she was startled by another voice. "Peach? What are you still doing here?"

Hermione whirled around, coming face to chest with Fenrir. "God, don't sneak up on me like that!" she hissed, smacking him against the abdomen, hating how firm she found him, and hating more how he laughed at her ineffectual move. He was like a brick wall! She hated the way that her mind instantly wandered to what he might look like _without_ a shirt on. "And just what are you doing here anyway?"

Fenrir just shrugged his shoulders. "Had something to ask Remus, but I see he's gone already. Now, why are you here all alone?" he pressed again.

"My uh, ride never showed up," she said, rocking back on her heels, so that she could get a better look at him. "My transmission is out, so my friend Harry has been picking me up."

Fenrir snorted. "I'll give you a ride back," he offered, gesturing to the motorcycle behind him.

Hermione looked at his bike, and nibbled at her lower lip. She didn't know much about motorcycles, but she did know that his looked big and scary compared to the kickstart motorcycle Sirius had in their garage at home. "I don't know."

He sighed, looking down at her, before looking left and right down the abandoned highway. "Peach, what other option do you have?" he asked finally.

"I was going to sleep in the office," she said defiantly, before she realized that yes, this was the best option that she had available right now. It would be good to sleep in her own bed. And not miss school the next day. "Oh, alright."

He walked her towards the motorcycle and handed her the helmet, which she slid on her head, only to have Fenrir help with the strap, his fingers tickling her chin. "Now make sure you keep your legs up here, I don't want you to burn yourself," he said, with surprising care, helping to settle her on it, before he got on in front of her. "And hold on tightly."

Reluctantly, she wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing herself tightly against his back. She let her cold fingers slide inside the jacket, finding his soft shirt underneath, and sighed at the warmth. She was nervous to ride with him, but it wasn't her first time on a motorcycle, seeing as Sirius had taken her out before. "Don't you need directions?" she asked, as the engine flared to life.

She could feel his laughter through her fingertips and gasped when he set the motorcycle into motion. Her thighs tightened around the metal between her legs and she held onto him even tighter. Fenrir drove _much faster_ than Sirius ever did. They got to her house in record time.

He helped her off the bike and chuckled at her wobbly legs. "Don't worry, you get used to it," he told her and Hermione _wanted_ to snap at him that she didn't want to get used to it, but he was helping her again with the strap to the helmet, because her fingers were still shaking. Once it was off, Hermione walked over towards the garage and lifted the door so that she could get in the house.

That was when he saw Sirius's Triumph Bonneville T120 motorbike. It was rather old, but Sirius always said that it was the best motorcycle in the world, and well, who was she to argue with him? It still worked, and it got you from point A to point B, after all. Sirius would tell her about all of the lovely features — 649 cc parallel twin-engine and _it's an import, Hermione_.

Fenrir walked over to it, helping himself into her garage, running his hands up the leather of its seat. "Is this a '59?" he asked her, as though she should know.

She gave him an annoyed look, wondering why he was still here and why he hadn't just left already. Her body was still tingling all over and she didn't think that it could _all_ be attributed to the vibrations of the engine. "I don't know, it's Sirius's."

"Peach, I could teach you how to ride it, if you wanted," Fenrir offered, his thumb cocked at it. "It'd be perfect for you — small and agile, easy to get going. And that way you wouldn't be totally dependent on your friends to give you rides places."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, thinking over his offer. Yes it would be nice to do all of those things, but also, it meant spending more time than she already did with Fenrir. She remembered when Remus told her that he was dangerous, and she knew that he was, but she was beginning to think that he was dangerous in other ways too. Like in the way that he always made her mind wander to the most...inappropriate kind of thoughts, and that he seemed to know exactly which buttons of her's to push, toeing the line between crude and complementary, and...

She was worried that she might actually _enjoy_ spending more time with him. Looking at him, she found his face to be uncharacteristically unreadable. Hoping that she didn't regret this later, Hermione nodded. "Oh alright. I suppose you're right. We can arrange a time next time I see you at Howl. Thanks for the ride, Fenrir."

"No trouble at all, Peach," he said, giving her a grin, knowing that she hated the nickname, but unwilling to stop using it. She unlocked the side door and walked in, listening as Fenrir shut the garage door after she was safely inside, before starting his engine and driving away.


	7. Chapter 7

Every day that passed without Fenrir coming into Howl filled Hermione with disappointment. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was...looking forward to seeing him again, especially seeing as he had promised to show her how to ride Sirius's motorbike. Every day that he didn't come in meant another day that she was reliant on Harry and his unreliable relatives.

She tried to keep busy, between helping out at the bar and working on her homework, so she wouldn't let her mind wander too much, but she couldn't stop. Looking at Remus down the bar from her, he was laughing with one of the Iron Wolves. It was difficult to reconcile Remus's past with the man that she knew now, but she couldn't shake what Fenrir had told her.

Cocking her head to the side to look at the thin man, she wondered if she should ask him instead about showing her how to ride the motorcycle. If he was in the Iron Wolves it stood to reason that he would also know how to ride a bike, and well...honestly, it was a bit hard to imagine Remus as a biker. She couldn't stop the fit of giggles from bubbling up, catching the man's attention.

"What's got you laughing over there?" he asked, eyebrows knitted together in confusion as to what she would find so funny. She wasn't talking to a customer or anything.

"Oh, just thinking about something Fenrir told me," Hermione said with a smile, knowing that Remus had _very_ conflicting feelings about Fenrir coming within fifteen feet of her. On the one hand, he _must_ know what Fenrir was capable of, but on the other, Fenrir had protected her in the past. "He said you were in the Iron Wolves, but I gotta say I can't imagine you on a motorcycle, Remus."

The older man came to stand next to her, letting out a breath. He certainly seemed world-weary, Hermione thought, noticing that his wrinkles were just a little more pronounced than Sirius's, despite them being the same age. Sirius always complained about the tiny hints of crow's feet and laugh lines around his mouth. "It's been a long time since I was on a motorcycle," Remus agreed. "That was another time in my life."

Nibbling her lower lip, Hermione wanted to suss out if there was any truth to the drug allegations against Sirius. "Is that how you met Sirius? Was he in a motorcycle gang too?" In her heart of hearts, she didn't want to believe that Sirius was capable of the things that they said, but she also couldn't say that she didn't have her doubts.

Remus ran his fingers through sandy blond hair. "I did meet Sirius while I was in the Iron Wolves, but...Sirius was never in the gang and he wasn't part of any motorcycle gang. Sure, he's always liked bikes, and probably the lifestyle too — fast speeds, fast women, the parties — but he was never in it like I was."

Hermione pursed her lips, thinking that that did sound rather like Sirius. He was never one to turn down a party. Still, she was unhappy with Remus's non-answer. Before she could ask any more questions, though, she was distracted by Fenrir waltzing into the bar. He immediately caught her attention with his easy smile and large frame. God, he shouldn't be allowed to make a pair of jeans look _that_ good, Hermione thought. She felt bad about ogling him for a brief second, before she remembered that no one in this damn bar gave her the same courtesy. She could _look_. Just a bit.

It didn't take long for their eyes to meet across the bar, and embarrassed to have been caught staring, Hermione hurried to find something to keep her busy. Before long, he was swaggering his way over to the bar. "Hey Peach," he said, a grin on his face, while he leaned back at her and looked her up and down.

Remus looked on in confusion when she just nodded back to him. "Fenrir," she offered, before pulling down the good whiskey to get him a glass. "You haven't been around in a while. Did you forget about your offer?" she asked, letting some of her bitterness at being...well, stood up bleed into her voice.

"Sorry, Peach, I got held up in Mexico earlier this week," he leaned forward on the bar, subconsciously trying to get closer to her. "I haven't forgotten about my offer...should I come over on Saturday?"

Hermione bit her lower lip, knowing that Remus was listening in on their conversation and she wasn't going to get out of this without giving him some kind of explanation. Turning to face him, she tried to bowl him over by giving him the brightest smile he could. "Remus, can I have Saturday off?" she asked, sweetly, the picture of innocence, with her ponytail bobbing behind her head.

Remus narrowed his eyes at her and then turned to look at Fenrir, who was doing nothing to alleviate the concern that Remus was obviously feeling. "What for? What did Fenrir offer you?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

She wanted to sigh at the fact that he was so nosey — she didn't _owe_ him any kind of explanation, but she could also tell that he wasn't going to drop it, and she didn't want him tattling on her to Sirius. "Fenrir's going to show me how to ride Sirius's bike, that way I don't have to keep hitching rides over here."

"Hermione, I don't know if that's a great idea," Remus said with a frown. "I didn't know you were hitching rides — you know you can always ask me for a lift." She wondered if she'd hurt his feelings by not asking him for a ride, but she didn't want him to pity her more than he already did. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and pulled her a bit further down the bar, to where they wouldn't be overheard by the biker. "I don't know if Fenrir is someone you should be spending a lot of time with. Sirius would be furious if he knew."

Her jaw jut out at hearing that. If there was one thing Hermione Granger hated more than anything it was being told what to do. "Remus, no offense, but you aren't my guardian. You don't really get a say in who I spend my time with, and now that I know that you were in the Iron Wolves with Fenrir, I don't think you can tell me not to either." She shrugged out from under his arm, before walking back towards the bar.

Giving Fenrir a sweet smile — probably much sweeter than she ever dream of giving him, but dammit, she was feeling a bit contrary! — she leaned forward on the bar to meet his eyes. "Saturday works for me. You'll come over to mine, then?"

Fenrir laughed at her, before nodding. "Yeah, I'll be there — let's say noon?"

Hermione turned to Remus to give him a little grin, feeling rather proud of herself, before resuming her normal behavior. "Great. Should I wear anything in particular? I read that it's very important to have proper protective equipment." It was true that Hermione had gone out and read everything she could find on motorcycles, not wanting to reveal herself to be a total rube.

Unfortunately, she seemed to do just that, as Fenrir started laughing at her. "PPE? We're never too bothered with it," he said, gesturing to the rest of the guys behind them in the bar. Seeing her with her lower lip stuck out a bit, though, had him softening. "But, since you are a beginner, you should probably wear some leather boots, and jeans of course. Oh, and, do you have a leather jacket? I can loan you one if you need it."

She gave him a shy smile. "That's alright, I can probably find one of Sirius's," she told him, even though the thought of wearing one of _his_ jackets did hold a little bit of appeal for her. "See you Saturday, then?" She didn't wait for an answer before she walked away to serve other customers.

* * *

Fenrir showed up a few minutes before noon, but Hermione was ready and waiting for him, having located some black leather riding boots and one of Sirius's leather jackets to wear over her gray shirt. It was a bit odd to see Fenrir out of the context of the bar, but it wasn't unpleasant either. He looked almost the same as he usually did.

She found it very hard not to stare at him while he walked her around the Bonneville, pointing out all the little things that she would need to know to start the damn thing. "This here is the choke. When you are starting it, you will want to have it more open — it changes the oxygen fuel mixture." Hermione was surprised that he was so knowledgeable about the science behind the mechanical systems, but she supposed he would have to be.

"Alright, ready to give it a go?" he asked, pulling her out of her reverie. Hermione nodded eagerly, following his directions. "There, put your foot on the kickstart like this." He used his hands to position her foot properly. "It'll only work if it's in the top-center position. See how this feels different?" Hermione wasn't very good at being able to feel the subtle differences in the bike — _yet_ — but she could see what he meant. "Alright, now you are just going to stand up on it, let your body weight press the kick down, don't try to push it down."

Hermione tried a few times but didn't find success. Letting out a frustrated huff, she turned to look at Fenrir. "I don't know Fenrir, maybe I'm not big enough to get it going."

Fenrir just laughed, before shaking his head. "Don't worry, I know you can do it. Just think of it as one fluid movement. Go on, try it again," he encouraged her, watching with mirth in his eyes when she finally got the engine to rumble to life. Before she could celebrate her success though, he was quick to come over to her side. "Listen to the bike, once you get it started you'll want to close the choke."

Focussed again, Hermione continued to listen to his lesson.

...

It had taken her several hours, and one tantrum when she killed the engine by letting out the clutch too quickly one too many times, and a moment of pure exhilaration when she opened the throttle too much, sending her shooting off, but Hermione had _finally_ learned how to ride the bike successfully. Of course, she wasn't going to be winning races any time soon, but she could definitely get from point A to point B.

"Hey, want to go for a short ride?" Fenrir asked, obviously proud of his pupil's good work over the day. Hermione nodded eagerly, waiting for him to retrieve his own motorcycle — an Indian Motors of some variety.

As odd as it was to admit it, she didn't want Fenrir to leave so soon, not now that she'd seen a completely different side to him. He was so patient with her, answering all of her questions and explaining everything to the best of his ability. He'd been gentle, understanding that she was a complete beginner at this, and didn't get frustrated when she didn't get something right. His voice had been smooth and low next to her ear, not at all like his booming voice at the bar.

When he came back, Hermione eagerly started the motorcycle, leading Fenrir down the dirt driveway, out to the road in front of Sirius's house. They drove around the township that Sirius lived in, just a sixteen mile journey, but Hermione found she didn't want to stop. Riding on the bike _was_ exhilarating, she could admit. The Bonneville was zippy, quick, and had an edge of danger that made her heart beat a bit faster. She could totally agree now that it was much more than just a bike.

But, the sun was setting, and she supposed it probably was time for her to stop for the night. She'd had a big day, after all, and it wasn't as if the motorcycle wouldn't be there again the next day. Fenrir followed her back to the house, where she pulled back into the garage, eagerly hopping off the bike.

Hermione looked at Fenrir expectantly, waiting for him to get off of his own too. She flounced over next to his bike, waiting while he shut off his motorcycle. She watched as he stepped off of it, only to realize that she was standing _much_ closer to him than she'd anticipated. Looking up at him, she wondered if she'd ever realized that he was _this_ tall before. Her eyes darted to his lips, before shooting back up to his eyes, seeing that he was smirking at her.

Stepping away from him quickly, Hermione hoped that he didn't notice her blush. "Um, would you like to come inside for a while?" she asked, before realizing that it was a stupid thing to ask. Of course he wasn't going to come inside her house — he was a grown man who had better things to do than hang out with a teenager, and really, she shouldn't even be inviting him in, seeing as he was dangerous.

"Alright," he said with a smirk. "Lead the way."

Swallowing thickly, Hermione nodded, heading towards the door, feeling the heat of his body half a step behind her. Once they were inside, he looked around while she went to scrounge the cabinets for some whiskey that Sirius might have. She poured Fenrir just a little, she grabbed herself a glass and poured half the amount in hers. This was probably a bad idea, but she would need a little liquid courage if she was expected to have a conversation with him.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione was glad when Tuesday finally came around, because it meant that she wouldn't have to go into Howl. She'd been lucky the day before that Fenrir hadn't come into the bar after the embarrassing display she'd put on when she'd invited him in after he'd taught her how to ride Sirius's motorcycle.

She didn't know what she'd been thinking, inviting him in like that, but mostly she thought that he'd never would have accepted the offer. He was in an outlaw motorcycle gang, surely he had better things to do than drink with an underage girl, right?

Still, he _had_ said yes, and so she'd got him a whiskey, and they put one of Sirius's records on — Led Zeppelin — and even though she got the impression that Fenrir was a little bit younger than Sirius, he still seemed to enjoy it. He'd given her that infuriating smirk when she'd gulped too much of the whiskey, causing her to sputter and cough, but instead of making her mad, it had just made her blush furiously. There was something about it that made her think it was just for her.

He'd asked her about her classes and what she might like to do once she graduated, but he was also understanding and kind when she told him she couldn't even think about anything after school until Sirius was out. He was the only person who seemed to understand why she felt that way, why she was willing to put her own life on hold to help her guardian. He'd also scolded her when she told him about the coyote pup that she'd taken to feeding in her backyard.

"You don't understand!" Hermione whined at his laughing face. "He looks so skinny and hungry."

Fenrir rolled his eyes at her. "Peach, it's a coyote...that's pretty much their definition," he said with a laugh. "Just don't let it talk you into letting it come in the house. Really, though, I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

She wanted to argue with him that the coyote wouldn't hurt her, but his honest concern for her stopped her in her tracks.

Things had taken a turn when he'd taken off his black leather jacket, revealing just a plain tshirt underneath. Hermione felt her mouth dry up at the sight of his biceps — strong and powerful and on display. She resisted the urge to ask him about his tattoos, but she did finally get to read what was on his knuckles — Live Fast. Hermione thought that was a little bit cliche, but she hadn't said anything either way.

After a while of sitting on the couch, glasses empty and on the table, Hermione realized that her whole body was leaning towards his, as if it was pulled in by some kind of invisible magnet. Her eyes had dipped towards his lips, and she felt her eyes dipped closed. This was it, she was going to kiss Fenrir Greyback, a man that she wasn't even sure if she liked or not.

Except, then she heard his sharp intake of breath. Her eyes shot open and she saw him pulling back. He didn't want to kiss her, she'd thought, despair and embarrassment pooling in her stomach. Hermione supposed she should be glad that he hadn't laughed in her face for being such a stupid, naive girl, and instead he just slipped his jacket back on, with some excuse about how he needed to get going.

It seemed so stupid to be avoiding him — so what, he didn't want to kiss her? But, she was still flush with embarrassment and shame, and so any amount of distance between her and Fenrir Greyback was going to be appreciated.

She'd gotten a pass to leave school early, and Remus came and picked her up, before driving her to the courthouse where they could see Sirius's first hearing. Mr. Malfoy hadn't really told her much of what to expect, just that they were going to try and get him out on bond again. Hermione knew that without having his assets unfrozen, there would be almost no way for her to get him out, even with Remus's assistance. It was nice to have Remus there. Not only was he familiar with the courthouse, having been there quite frequently in the past few weeks, but also just to have a supportive face there.

She and Remus slipped into the bench behind where the defense would sit. Mr. Malfoy was already there, reviewing some papers, but Sirius hadn't been brought out yet. Needing to keep her mind off of the proceedings, Hermione turned to face her friend. "So, how's things going with Teddy? Have they decided to change the custody agreement?"

Remus gave her a rare smile. "Yes, actually. We are working out a trial basis where I can have him more frequently over the summer, and every other weekend. But, I don't know...how I feel about leaving you alone at Howl, especially when it's so busy on the weekends."

Hermione bit her lower lip. She didn't want him to miss out on times with his son on her behalf. "You know that I've gotten a hold of things there, Remus. Don't worry about me. I am sure that I can handle myself one or two weekend nights a month," she said, hoping that she sounded more confident than she felt. "Especially now that Fenrir and I have...come to an understanding."

He stiffened at Fenrir's name being brought up. "What exactly is going on between the two of you anyway?" he tried to broach the subject cautiously.

She nibbled her lower lip, not really sure how she wanted to answer that. She wasn't sure that she did have a good example. "Oh, I think he just likes to tease me. He knows that I get a bit flustered...with all of the...stuff that goes on at the bar." Hermione realized that a courthouse was probably not exactly the best place to be having this kind of conversation. "But, he's been really helpful too. He gave me a ride once, and then taught me how to use Sirius's bike...teach a man to fish and all that, I think. It's not like we are _friends_ or anything," Hermione said, dismissively. Though, it wasn't as if she didn't _want_ to be friends.

Remus relaxed, nearly imperceptible, but Hermione knew him better than that. "I suppose Fenrir has always been one to try and help people out," he conceded, happy to hear that their relationship didn't extend beyond that. God, she wondered what he would think if he knew the truth. "How did you find the Bonnie? You know you will have to be careful with it, or Sirius will be upset."

"Oh, trust me, I am being very careful," Hermione promised, knowing how much he loved the bike. "I actually liked it a bit more than I thought...It was a bit scary at first, but once the adrenaline kicks in…" she trailed off seeing Remus's knowing look. She wondered how much he missed riding the bike, too.

Just as she was about to ask him what type of motorcycle he had favored, Sirius was brought into the courtroom by the bailiff. She was glad to see him out of his usual jumpsuit, but disappointed to see him wearing a pair of dirty jeans and a tshirt — this wasn't going to impress the judge one bit! "For Christ's sake, Sirius, couldn't you have dressed up a bit?" she whispered, feeling Remus give her hand a reassuring squeeze. She made a note to remember to send over a suit next time he had court.

The actual proceedings were quite boring. Malfoy moved to have his assets reinstated, and that they set a bond rather than holding him. "Your honor, my client is not a flight risk," Malfoy tried to say with a winning smile.

"I very much doubt that. Mr. Black's passport shows significant overseas travels, not to mention numerous known contacts in Mexico," the judge said. "And as for reinstating his assets, Mr. Black is facing a very serious charge of money laundering over millions of dollars through a significant real estate network all across the Southwest. I cannot in good conscience release those funds when they are likely the product of illegal drug activity."

"But the State has no proof that those funds are _anything_ but legitimate business profits!" Malfoy argued.

"Save the arguments for trial, Mr. Malfoy," the judge chided from the bench. "Mr. Black, I would not plan on leaving jail until you have your day in court. At that time, a jury of your peers will decide on the status of your freedom." She rapped her gavel against the desk, with a resounding boom.

Hermione let go of a breath that she didn't know she was holding. It was certainly not the outcome she had hoped for, but it wasn't something that she was unprepared for. When Sirius turned around to give her a reassuring smile, she wrapped her arms around his neck, wishing that he could hold her again. "I'm sorry, princess," he whispered quietly into her ear.

She shook her head. "It's okay. We can get through this," she promised, blinking back stubborn tears. Wanting to focus on happier things, Hermione tried to give him a bit of good news. "Sirius, I learned to ride your Bonneville," she told him with a bright smile.

He returned the look before giving Remus a proud look. "Ah, did ol' Remus here decide to get back in the saddle again and teach you?" he asked, wishing he could clasp his friend on the upper arm, but prevented by the handcuffs.

"Err, no," Hermione said, giving Remus a significant look. "Just someone I met at the bar."

Sirius's grey eyes narrowed immediately. "Who?" he asked, obviously trying to keep his cool.

Before Hermione had to come up with an answer, the bailiff was pulling on Sirius's arm. Visiting time was over for the day. "No time to explain, Sirius — I will come visit you again soon, and we can talk more then!" Internally, Hermione was hoping that he would completely forget that someone at the bar had taught her how to ride his bike. "Stay safe, Sirius."

"Miss Granger," Malfoy said, probably a bit too loudly based on the way his cheeks turned just a little bit pink. "Do you have a moment to discuss something?" he asked, gesturing towards the back of the courtroom.

Hermione nodded, before turning to face Remus. "I just need to settle up my most recent installment payment with him," she tried to reassure her self-appointed pseudo-guardian. "Can I meet you outside?" Remus didn't need to be told twice and left Hermione to settle up the financial matters.

Pulling out her most recent check, she walked over to where Malfoy was waiting for her. "Here you go — this should be good for another two weeks, right?" Hermione asked, letting his eyes sweep over the numbers she'd written in her looping handwriting.

Malfoy nodded stiffly. "Miss Granger — Hermione. I wanted to ask you, _again_ …" He let his words linger, as though he were annoyed at having to ask twice. "If you'd like to accompany me on a date. I could pick you up this Friday, around 8 o'clock?" He stepped a bit closer to her, so that their chests were nearly touching.

Hermione looked away, annoyed that he was trying to pressure her into a date with him. "I'm sorry Malfoy-"

"Draco," he cut her off. "Please, I'd like to think that we are on a first name basis at this point."

"Draco. I told you before that I don't think it's a great idea for me to be dating the attorney that I am paying. The answer is no," she said, hoping that a firmer approach would sink into the blond's head a bit better, before she turned to walk away.

"Well, that's just it." He reached out, grabbing her wrist so that she was facing him again. "I think we could work out some little...arrangement. In exchange for a date, we could work on dropping my fee to a more manageable rate."

The little smirk that he gave her had her skin positively crawling. She only paused for a millisecond thinking that perhaps it would be worth it to buy off some of Malfoy's fees, for just a few hours of discomfort on her part, before dismissing the idea outright. She wasn't going to lower herself to that level. "No thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Now, if you'll excuse me, Remus is waiting for me."

He let her arm go, reluctantly, but once she was free, Hermione walked away as quickly as possible. She wondered if she should _tell_ Remus about what was happening, before she thought better of it. No use making him worry more about her than he already did.


	9. Chapter 9

"Still no word from that mongrel, Greyback," Bellatrix said, sliding into the seat across from Tom Riddle. In the backroom they could hear the pulsing of the music out in the main bar, where other Death Eaters were drinking heavily. While most could be counted on, the others did not need to be included in the business the four of them were discussing.

Tom sneered at the table. "How utterly disappointing." After he'd talked to Greyback about what he wanted, he'd given the larger man time to think over his _offer_. Only, it wasn't really an offer that he'd extended, it was more of a command. And if there was one thing he hated, it was when someone tried to defy him.

It was true that Fenrir Greyback was no slouch. There was no doubt that he was the more physically gifted between the two of them, and Tom knew that he could be a bit ruthless. Only, Tom knew that he was much more ruthless than Greyback could ever hope to be. He spent far too much time worrying about the _people_ and not enough time focusing on the _money_. Just look at that silly little bar that he patronized.

"What more can you expect from someone like him?" Rodolphus asked. He was easily one of the most hot-headed in the gang, vicious and mean and handy with a knife, and he'd been against bringing in outside help.

Tom rubbed a hand along the lower half of his face. Even though Greyback had defied an order, it wasn't as if things were completely hopeless. Maybe he just needed a little reminder of what the Death Eaters were capable of if you tried to cross them. "Maybe we just need to send him a little reminder," he said finally, giving his two compatriots a grin. "Remind him why being under the Death Eaters' protection is a good thing."

Bellatrix cackled, obviously liking the idea of roughing things up a bit. "What should we do? We could burn down that little shack of theirs?" One of Bellatrix's flaws, though, was always going way too far with things. He wanted to send a message, not destroy a perfectly good money making venture.

He shook his head. "No, we don't want to start a war with him," he growled. "But, maybe just break some things, scare the girl a bit."

"Maybe you should send Rabastan," Rodolphus offered, looking bored, but the lazy smirk on his face showed that he was delighted by the prospect. "You know that he was keen to take a bite out of that _peach_."

"What an excellent idea, Rodolphus," Tom rewarded his friend. "I think that would be the perfect job for Rabastan to take care of for us. Just make sure that he doesn't do any permanent damage. We are _just_ sending a message...a little incentive to get him to cooperate."

Yes, Tom thought that this would be the perfect way to get Fenrir Greyback to bend to his will.

* * *

Hermione sighed, surprised that it was such a quiet Saturday. She'd been expecting a lot more people when she agreed to give him the weekend off to watch Teddy for the first time. She knew how much he was looking forward to spending time with the little boy, and showing the courts that he could take care of him. Hermione had been looking forward to the tips.

Apparently, though, there was an Arizona State night game on, and a lot of the Iron Wolves had gone up to Tempe for the day. Hermione was surprised that they liked football, and Theo had told her it was as much about watching football as it was about betting on the game. Oh, and collecting their wins of course. With force if necessary. Not even her regular had come into the bar, perhaps rather watching it somewhere he could get some food to go with his beer.

She had the game on in the background and a half-drunk beer for company. Even though she didn't care much for the sport, the commentators voices were comforting, making the bar seem not so empty. Her American literature assignment lay forgotten on the sticky surface of the bar...it wasn't easy to focus on the symbolism of Zora Neale Hurston for some reason, so she'd switched to physics, but was having little success getting anything done.

Just when she was beginning to think about closing up early that night, she heard the rumble of a motorcycle in the distance. She couldn't hide the smile from her face, thinking that it might be Fenrir coming to visit her. It was a bit embarrassing how much she'd come to like the man, but she couldn't deny that they had some kind of...connection.

She couldn't deny the way that butterflies seemed to erupt in her belly when he was near or the way that her heart beat a little bit faster when he gave her one of those grins. It was _odd_ and a bit off putting to say the least. Yes, she was attracted to him, but did she really like him? Hermione wasn't sure...there was so much about him that she shouldn't like.

The motorcycle engine stopped once it reached the bar. Hermione turned to see if they had some of the good whiskey for Fenrir. To her dismay, the bottle was nearly empty, so she pulled it from the shelf, before heading into the backroom where they kept the extra liquor. She hoped that he appreciated all that she did for him.

Rummaging around under the desk, she finally found the elusive bottle she was looking for, just in time to hear the front door open and close. Standing, Hermione forced herself to keep a neutral face despite the excitement she was feeling, and walked out into the main room. "I didn't expect to see you out tonight, Fen-" Hermione trailed off when she realized that the man that had entered Howl was _not_ Fenrir Greyback.

Trailing worried brown eyes up over his lean form, Hermione was horrified to realize that she absolutely recognized this man, and the delighted leer in his eyes did nothing to calm her nerves. "What are you doing here? Fenrir's out today," she said, narrowing her eyes at the Death Eater, the man who was called Rabastan as she remembered. The last time he'd been here, he'd been discussing a drug deal, and he'd gotten rather up close and personal with her bum, an experience she _wasn't_ keen on repeating.

"So you do remember me, _peach_ ," he said, his voice teasing and a bit excited. Hermione didn't want to imagine what he was excited for. "I just came here to take care of a little bit of business."

"Well, like I said, the Iron Wolves are out tonight, so I don't see what kind of business I can help you with," Hermione said, firmly, setting down the bottle of whiskey. She scowled, wondering if maybe she shouldn't have admitted that she was all alone in the bar tonight. She didn't want Rabastan to think that he could take advantage of her.

He laughed, low in his throat, in a way that sent shivers up her spine in a decidedly _not_ good way. Hermione let her eyes drift to the shotgun hanging on the wall above the desk in the office. She hoped that she would be able to get to it in time in case he tried to do anything too drastic. Hermione promised herself that she would thank Remus for thinking of her protection the next time that she saw him.

"All the better for me," he said, finally, advancing on the bar, and pressing his hands against the top of it. "Now, all you need to do is show me where they keep the money, and I promise not to _hurt_ you...though I can't promise that I won't touch you."

Hermione recoiled in horror. "I'm not going to let you just rob me!" Her voice sounded shrill, and she could feel the absolute panic bleeding into her bones. She'd gotten too comfortable around the Iron Wolves, and she'd forgotten that these were serious criminals. Of course, she didn't have any proof, but she had no doubt that Rabastan had killed people before.

Rabastan tsked, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "I'd hoped we wouldn't have to do this the hard way." In the blink of an eye, he was vaulting himself over the bar in a rather impressive feat of strength and skill. It took Hermione completely by surprise, and she wasn't expecting that she would have to defend herself so soon.

He didn't give her any time to think or to reconsider. There were no second chances with the Death Eaters it seemed. He slapped her across the face, hard enough to send her flying into the shelves, sending a rack of bottles crashing to the ground, splashing her bare legs with sticky alcohol. Rabastan grabbed her by the upper arm, hauling her to her feet, but not giving her a chance to get her bearings. He began dragging her towards the office where the safe was kept.

Hermione, desperate not to go in there with him, grappled and held onto anything she could get her hands on, sending glasses and alcohol to the ground, leaving all sorts of broken glass. She could tell that she was bleeding already, from the sharp sting in her palm, but she wasn't going to give up or give into the demands of this _horrid_ man.

Finally, to her great relief, she found something she could use to stop him. Her half-drunk beer bottle was sure and steady in her hand, and without thinking, she pulled her arm before bringing the bottle down on the back of Rabastan's head. The shatter of glass was somewhat impressive, but Hermione was more impressed with the way that he dropped to the ground.

He didn't get back up.

Once she noticed the bloody wound on the back of his head, though, that was when she really began to panic. She heard screaming, only to quickly realize that it was her. With tears blurring her eyes, she dropped down beside the man, pressing her fingers to the side of his neck, desperate for a pulse. Of course, she didn't _care_ about Rabastan at all, but she did not want to be a murderer.

To her horror, she couldn't find one. She didn't know what to do. In the back of her mind, she knew that she should call the police, but she knew that was against the rules of Howl. Her hands were shaking too bad to do anything useful, and she couldn't catch her breath, and —

Strong arms were lifting her up off of the ground. She turned her head, only to be met with bright blue eyes, so familiar, so comforting, she felt her body relax into his. "Hermione?" he asked, tentatively, using a hand to brush through her hair to help sooth her. "What happened?"

"He tried to rob us...well, Howl, and...he hit me, and he was dragging me off and I couldn't stop him and I didn't know what to do, but I guess I just reacted on instinct and I hit him on the head and now he's dead! Oh god, Fenrir, what am I going to do?"

Fenrir's big hands came to rest on each of her cheeks. "Hermione. Deep breaths." He made a big show of breathing deeply, so that she could match herself to him. Normally, she would have found it patronizing, but it helped calm her down, to where she was just crying, an occasional hiccup sneaking in.

He let go of her, before bending down to inspect Rabastan. "He isn't dead, but he will be if he doesn't get help. Let me take care of this. I will drop him somewhere that he will be found," Fenrir explained it to her cautiously, knowing that Hermione didn't really understand what was going on at that moment.

Hermione was glad to hear that she hadn't actually killed him, but she couldn't imagine being left all alone after what had happened. Even worse, she couldn't imagine being parted from Fenrir when he was the only one who could make her feel safe at that time. "Please don't leave me here," she begged him, hating how pitiful her voice sounded.

To her relief, though, he seemed to understand anyway. Fenrir nodded to her. "Go on, start my bike. I will be right behind you, but I gotta carry him."

Glad to have a task to keep her mind off of what had happened, Hermione hurried out the front door of Howl, trying to forget the look of Rabastan lying on the ground with a bloody head.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione wasn't sure how long that they drove, with Rabastan's limp body sandwiched between them on Fenrir's motorcycle. She wanted as little contact with the man that had assaulted her as possible, but they didn't have any other vehicle and she couldn't bear the thought of being apart from Fenrir even for the short while he said it would take.

It was unpleasant, but eventually Fenrir was pulling over to the side of the road and stopping the engine. Hermione wasn't entirely sure where they were, but it was clear that this was a well traveled road. He pulled the man off of the motorcycle, dumping him on the ground telling Hermione to wait for him there. Dragging Rabastan by his boots, he pulled the man out of immediate harm's way, before nudging him with his foot.

"Lestrange," Fenrir said sharply, seeming to rouse the man from the stupor he was in. "Lestrange!" he said louder, giving the downed man a swift kick in the ribs. Rabastan finally groaned in pain, coming back to his senses, before looking up at the towering man standing over him. "Wake up, you better get help if you don't want to bleed out. And don't you ever come near Howl or Hermione again. Do you understand?"

Fenrir didn't wait for a response before he walked back over to the bike, his face a picture of controlled rage. Hermione wasn't afraid of him though. "You are just going to leave him out here?" she asked cautiously.

"We are well within Death Eater territory. They will find him in time," he assured her, before swinging a leg over the bike and starting it back up. Hermione quickly shoved her greedy hands into his jacket, pressing her body against his back as tightly as she was able to. She pressed her face into the cool leather jacket that was on his back and inhaled his scent, letting it try to soothe her racing heart.

Once they returned to the bar, Fenrir helped her off of the bike and lead her back inside. Confidently, he led her behind the bar, before lifting her up easily to rest on the low edge behind the bar. Despite the cold against her bare legs, Hermione instinctively knew that the reason she was shaking wasn't because she was cold.

He came back with a damp rag, before pulling her hand into his larger one. "You've got blood all over you Peach," he whispered, before gently running the rag over each and every one of her fingers.

Hermione could feel herself calming down, while she let him take care of her. She felt so helpless, like a little child, but somehow, Fenrir made her feel safe. She wanted to laugh, thinking that this man could ever make her feel safe after seeing the violence that he was capable of, but he _did_. She needed to explain herself to him. "It all happened so fast. He was trying to drag me-"

Her breath sucked in when he dragged the rag up her arm, pushing her curly hair back behind her shoulder, and wiped away the blood from her face and neck. She wasn't sure if it was her blood or Rabastan's blood, but she didn't really want to know. He was _so_ careful with her, his blue eyes intense on the patches of skin he was cleaning. "He tried to rob the bar, and he was pulling me into the office." She could feel tears welling in her eyes, but she _couldn't_ let them drop. "I just grabbed the first thing I could get my hands on."

Fenrir shushed her, his thumb pressed to her lips. "Don't worry Peach. It's not as if the police are going to find out, and even if they did it was self defense," he told her, calming her further. How funny that he thought she was worried about getting in trouble and not that she was _actually_ worried about the fact that she'd almost killed a man.

She was pulled from her guilty thoughts when he cupped her bruised cheek with his hand, eyes rapidly roving her face for any hint of serious discomfort. "He slapped me _so hard_ , I was reeling," she told him.

"Maybe we should have let him die," Fenrir said darkly, taking her by surprise. It was odd, in all of their interactions, she'd never considered the possibility that he might genuinely like her, care about her.

Then she remembered the worry on his face when he'd found her in the bar. Looking up at him with a timid smile on her face, she locked eyes with him. "You called me Hermione," she said softly, not wanting to spook him. Normally, he always called her by that nickname, but this time it had been different.

He rewarded her with that big, _feral_ grin of his that made her insides do flip flops. Before she knew what she was doing, she was wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him down to meet his lips with a searing kiss. He was shocked for only a millisecond, before he was beginning to respond to her. Not just an active participant, he was dominating, parting her lips to explore every inch of her.

She parted her legs so that he could stand between them, their bodies pressing together as closely as they could go. His arms caged her in tightly, one splayed on her lower back and the other tangled in her hair, holding her to him. Fenrir broke apart from the kiss, smirking at her heavy breathing, before kissing his way to her neck, laving her speeding pulse point with his tongue, lapping insistently against her skin. Hermione couldn't stop the soft mewls of pleasure, her mind reeling with just how _good_ it felt.

Her mind was spinning. Kissing Viktor had never felt like this, and she wanted more of him. Hermione used her hands to push his jacket down his shoulders, waiting for him to reluctantly release her, letting the leather drop to the floor. He stood, staring at her, pupils blown wide, almost daring her to go farther.

She rose to the challenge, her greedy fingers diving under the soft cotton of his shirt, lifting it, revealing hard muscle to her eyes. He was _so strong_ and Hermione couldn't stop herself from staring. Grinning at her, proudly showing off his pearly whites, he finished the job for her when she was too distracted with her ogling, and pulled the shirt over his head.

Hermione would be in denial if she said she hadn't imagined what Fenrir would look like without his shirt on but the real deal was so much better. He was all tan skin and hard muscle, and he had the most enticing smattering of dark hair. She couldn't help herself from touching him, needing to feel the heat of him.

Fenrir cupped her chin, turning her to look up from his body so that he could kiss her again. She moaned into him when she felt his hands toying with the hem of her shirt, fingers tickling the soft skin below her belly button, just skimming below the hem of her jean shorts. When he tugged at the hem of her shirt, Hermione didn't have to think twice about lifting her arms up over her head so he could remove it.

It was nice to see a man like Fenrir just as affected by her as she was by him. He groaned, letting his eyes drop to her breasts. Bringing his hand up to palm one of the cloth covered globes, he seemed entranced by the way that the nipple pebbled underneath his thumb.

But then, it was as if a dam had broken.

Hermione wasn't entirely sure who moved first, but in the blink of an eye they were kissing frantically, hands working on the buttons and zips of the other's jeans. Hermione was quicker, pushing his jeans over his hips. Before she could celebrate her victory, he was encouraging her to lift up her hips so that she could wriggle out of her shorts.

His mouth was hot against her's, kissing her as if he would never get the chance again, while his hard cock nudged up against her. Hermione couldn't stop herself from pressing against him. The only thing that was making any sense to her at that moment was Fenrir and she wanted _more_ of him. Groaning, he seemed to understand what she wanted, and used a hand to position himself.

She held him against her, fingers delving into his dark hair, when they were finally joined to one another. He pressed his face into her neck while he waited for her to adjust to him, his panting breaths sending shivers down her spine. When she finally wanted him to move, she rolled her hips against him, too engrossed in the pleasure of the action to be embarrassed by her moan.

Fenrir snapped his hips against her, pistoning into her with powerful thrusts, over and over. His lips were attached to the skin of her neck, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against her. Her back was pressed against the bar, and every thrust had bottles shaking and knocking together, but Hermione couldn't find it in herself to care when it all felt so good. With her emotions and adrenaline so high, Hermione was so close to the edge, but she just needed a little extra to get her there. Fenrir was only too happy to provide, pressing his thumb against the bead at the top of her sex until she was snapping, coming around him, shouting his name. With a few erratic thrusts, he was following right behind her.

He gave her a lazy kiss while they waited for their heartbeats to return to normal. Hermione wondered if she would ever regret her spontaneous decision to sleep with Fenrir, because at that moment, she couldn't imagine not wanting it. It was impossible to deny that she was very attracted to Fenrir, but after seeing that he actually cared about her too, she couldn't deny their connection. He made her feel safe.

Eventually, though, Fenrir looked up at her, giving her that lazy smirk. "I will never get tired of hearing you say my name," he revealed. Helping her up from the bar, he located her tshirt for her, before focusing on redressing himself. When they were both fully clothed again, he looked down at her, eyebrows knit together. "I better give you a ride back home. I can bring you here tomorrow too."

Not wanting to be alone — or rather, not wanting to be parted from Fenrir — she agreed, letting him drive her back to Sirius's house. The drive was quick, and to Hermione's delight, he ushered her inside the garage. Cupping her cheek again, he looked at her with worry in his blue eyes. "Let's get some ice on that cheek. You're going to have a little bruise." Anger flashed across his face, and Hermione wondered if he really would have killed Rabastan.

Only too willing to let Fenrir take care of her a while longer, she let him help her into the kitchen. He dug out a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. "Thank you for helping me, Fenrir. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up when you did."

"It's not a problem. We'll need to talk to Remus about leaving you alone. Someone from the Iron Wolves should be there if he isn't going to be there," Fenrir said. Hermione wondered if he felt some kind of guilt for what happened.

Still, worry began to bubble up inside of her. "Oh, please don't tell Remus! I know that he will blame himself, and I just wanted to give him a weekend with his son." It felt silly to beg, but she'd rather keep Remus in the dark. She didn't want him to worry about her, when he had so much going on in his life.

"It's not just about you, Peach," Fenrir said apologetically. "The Death Eaters were trying to send me, and the Iron Wolves, a message. They tried to rob the bar, which makes it a Howl issue. Remus needs to know."

Biting her lower lip, Hermione supposed that she could understand where Fenrir was coming from. But still, she did not relish the dressing down she was going to get from Remus.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was used to getting what he wanted. And he _wanted_ Hermione Granger. There was nothing really special about her, but there was something that drew him in and he intended to figure out what that was. She'd spurned his advances twice, most recently at the courthouse, so he decided that a change of venue might be appreciated.

It was easy enough to find her address seeing as it was the same as what was on the checks, and it was the same address his client lived at, but Draco had been disappointed to find that she wasn't home. He didn't have to think too long before he decided to just wait for her there. She couldn't take too long, could she?

To Draco's dismay, it was after dark when she finally returned — on the back of a motorcycle driven by a dirty mongrel of a biker! He was aghast at the sight of that brute, cupping her cheek. He could tell from the way that the pair of them looked at each other that they were very much _involved_.

That little bitch had lied to him when she said she wasn't seeing anyone! And just how could she pick someone like that biker over someone like _him?_ Accomplished, wealthy, smart, ridiculously handsome. He wasn't entirely sure, but he was sure that he would make her see that he was the superior man. He vowed to get back at her for not picking him.


	11. Chapter 11

Rabastan knew that Tom was pissed off at him. He didn't think he'd ever seen his leader so outraged at one of his Death Eaters in his life, and it was even worse to have it solely directed at himself when he'd stumbled back to their headquarters, bleeding and dizzy from blood loss. Though, why shouldn't he be pissed? Rabastan also didn't think he'd ever seen someone botch up a simple robbery so badly either.

He'd been taken down by a slip of a girl. It was true that he'd underestimated her. He'd been sure that the barmaid at Howl was meek and helpless when he'd seen the way that she shook like a leaf the last time he'd met her. He hadn't been expecting her to fight back so fiercely, clawing at anything she could get her hands on. And then, she'd incapacitated him with a bottle.

Really, he knew that he was lucky to be alive. He'd lost a lot of blood, enough that it even required a visit to the hospital. That was probably what pissed Tom off most of all. Everyone in the Death Eaters tried to stay as out of the system as possible, but he'd had a concussion and lost a massive amount of blood, so he needed to go if he was going to survive. He told the police officer that came to interview him that he didn't remember anything. The Death Eaters would handle the vengeance on their own, thank you.

It was humiliating to return to their headquarters, empty handed and bested by a _little girl_ — which, was a rumor that had _definitely_ gotten out among the other members — and still weak from his stay in the hospital. Well, he didn't return quite so empty handed. He thought he'd gotten some intelligence that Tom would actually be pleased to hear.

"This better be good, Rabby," Bellatrix said teasingly, from her spot next to Tom. The other man had his fingers steepled and from the look of his jaw, seemed as though he were trying very _very_ hard not to lash out in anger. "You know that you've disappointed Tom so much after you failed to do the one simple thing he asked you to."

Tom waved his hand at her. "Enough, Bella. Rabastan wouldn't have asked for an audience unless he had something good to share. Otherwise, he would know that I would be _most displeased_."

Rabastan nodded fiercely. "I know that I fucked up at Howl, but it wasn't completely hopeless. I couldn't help but notice that Greyback was _intensely_ concerned with the well being of that stupid chit. He seemed to be really worried about if she was okay, and when they dumped me, he gave me a few good kicks and warned me away from her."

"So, he's in love with some stupid little girl," Bellatrix said derisively. "How on earth does that help us?"

"Because, _Bella_ ," Rabastan said in that sing-song way of his that let everyone know how exasperated he was with her stupidity. "If we want to draw Greyback out, maybe all we need to do is grab the girl. He'll come running to her aid, thinking that he can be a knight in shining armor for that little fool."

Bellatrix looked like she was ready to snap back at him, before Tom raised his arm to cut her off. "He's right Bellatrix. If we want to get at Greyback, we can use the girl to hurt him. Then when we have him where we want him, I will make him an offer he won't refuse."

* * *

Hermione hadn't been the least bit embarrassed or concerned with the way that she'd behaved herself around Fenrir after Rabastan had attacked her. She'd been needing human contact and Fenrir made her feel so safe, she didn't feel an ounce of regret. He'd been so passionate and demanding, and even days after the fact, she still felt herself become a bit wet thinking about the things he'd done to her body and the way he'd looked after her when he dropped her off at her home.

Still, she was very excited that he'd invited her on a date — an actual date — when he picked her up at Howl the next day. It was clear that he felt badly about the way that it had happened, but not the actual sex. "Come on, let me do this properly," he'd asked her. "I know I've messed up the order of how relationships are supposed to go, but I would love to take you out to dinner."

She'd blushed at the mention of the word _relationship_ and agreed. She'd gotten the following Thursday off, even though it meant coming clean to Remus about how close she and Fenrir had grown. She didn't think she'd ever seen him quite so mad, but after what had happened with Rabastan and the fact that Fenrir had helped her, he couldn't deny that Fenrir was looking out for her safety. He let her go on the condition that she tell Sirius the next time she saw him. Hermione had smiled and given Remus a tight hug, causing him to blush brightly.

Hermione had invited Ginny over to help her pick out an outfit, which meant that Ron and Harry had come along to Sirius's house after school one day. Both of the boys expressed concern that she was going out with an _older_ guy, especially one they hadn't met. Their fears only increased when she told them she'd have to wear jeans and a leather jacket because her mystery date rode a motorcycle. In the end, Ginny had helped her locate a sexy red top that she'd forgotten she'd purchased back when she lived in San Francisco.

The week seemed to creep by slowly, but eventually it was time for her date. Hermione had eagerly returned from her classes and set about getting ready, taking the time to style her hair into sultry waves and actually put on a bit of makeup. She didn't have to wait too long before she heard the rumble of Fenrir's motorcycle coming up the road.

She felt a bit silly, as she rushed outside, not even waiting for him to get up the drive all the way. He hopped off the bike, giving her a slow grin that had her belly fluttering with butterflies once again. "Don't you look good enough to eat?" he asked her, his teeth catching his lower lip. He bent down and pressed a kiss against her lips. Hermione moaned into him, and was suddenly rethinking the idea of going on a date at all when she could just invite him inside.

But then, he was pulling away and putting the helmet on and helping her get settled on the back of the motorcycle. Hermione sighed, realizing that if she _wanted_ to have a relationship with Fenrir then actually going on a date was probably a good idea. It couldn't all be physical. Wrapping her arms around him had almost become like a habit.

They drove to the next town over, and Hermione was excited to get out of their tiny little town for a change, but Hermione wasn't sure where they were going. Before long, they stopped at a small Mexican restaurant. Fenrir led her over to a booth and made suggestions for what she should order, but didn't order for her, which Hermione appreciated.

Once they had their food and their beers — the woman working at the counter had given Hermione a very long look, but a glare from Fenrir meant he didn't ask for her ID — they sat in an awkward silence for a few moments, when they realized that they were on a _date_ and that something between them had sifted with the introduction of a physical relationship.

Halfway into her taco, though, Hermione couldn't stop herself from commenting on how good it was. "This is amazing. How did you find this place anyway?" Arizona was littered with Mexican restaurants and you were more likely to stumble on one that was bad as you were to find one that was good. Finding food this excellent was a rarity.

He smiled at her. "Just an old favorite of mine. Been coming here for years." Then, the conversation seemed to flow freely between the two of them, with Hermione asking more and more about Fenrir's past. He didn't talk much about his family, but she understood that he was an only child like her. He told her about the first time he'd ever rode a motorcycle and his other favorite kinds of food.

They had been finished with their food — their baskets long since cleared by a young waitress, but neither one of them was eager for the date to be over. "I'll be right back," Fenrir said, giving her hand a squeeze. "Just have to step outside for a moment."

Hermione nodded, but she couldn't think of what it could possibly be that was taking him outside. In all the weeks that she'd known him, she couldn't think of a time that she'd seen him take a smoke break, so she doubted that's what he would be doing. Luckily, she had a great vantage point next to the window, and it wasn't difficult to locate Fenrir out in the parking lot.

Another motorcycle had parked next to his, and a man got off it. Hermione watched in confusion as he handed Fenrir a package of some kind. A pocket knife was revealed and was tearing through the package, and Fenrir was sticking a finger into it, before drawing it back out with white powder coating the tip. Hermione cocked her head in confusion as he brought his finger to his lips to taste it.

Fenrir nodded, before offering the other man a handshake. Hermione gasped, suddenly, when she realized what he was doing. She couldn't believe that he would be conducting a...a...drug transaction while out on a date with her! She thought that she'd made it very clear to him what she thought of cocaine in their past conversations.

Standing from the table abruptly, throwing on her jacket and stomping outside. By the time she got outside, the other man was long gone. Fenrir smiled at her, before he noticed the absolute annoyance on her face. "Peach? What is it?" he asked, his hands squeezing her upper arms in a friendly embrace.

"Really, Fenrir? You couldn't wait until another time, when we weren't on a date?" Hermione asked, shaking off his hold, and putting her hands on her hips in defiance. "Dealing cocaine while I am sitting just a few feet away? And now, what? I will have to ride back on your motorcycle carrying illegal drugs?"

Fenrir flinched, at her words. Clearly, he was not expecting to have been caught, but perhaps he should have tried to be a little bit sneakier. But then, he shook his head. "Don't try to be like that, Peach. You know what I am. I'm in a fucking motorcycle gang. You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to go on a date with me."

"Yes, but you should have put it aside for one night, Fenrir. Is it really that much to ask?" Hermione argued, knowing that she didn't have any kind of illusions about what kind of a man that he was. She hadn't forgotten the fact that he was _dangerous_. "You know what I am going through right now with Sirius and...I don't need that kind of trouble."

"This is a part of me, Hermione," Fenrir said seriously, his voice dropping a bit lower. "It's not something I can turn off. You aren't going to clean me up into some kind of respectable citizen. If you want this... _relationship_ to go any farther, this is something about me that you are going to have to _accept_."

Hermione stared him down, thinking about his words, but she didn't want to make any decisions while she was so angry. Of course, she knew that he was right, but the real question was, could she live with it? "Please just take me home now, Fenrir," she said, her disappointment bleeding into her voice.


	12. Chapter 12

Despite her requests, Hermione still hadn't been able to get any additional visitors added to Sirius's visitors list. She couldn't be sure, but she thought that Malfoy might not be trying his _hardest_ ever since she'd rebuffed his advances. She didn't want to trouble Harry to bring her all the way up to the jail, only to be denied a visit, _again_ , so she rode the Triumph up herself.

The long ride on the way up to the jail was good for her, she thought. It gave her a lot of time to herself to think, and hopefully sort out some of the emotions she had swirling inside her about Fenrir. She'd been kept up all night previously, mad at herself for yelling at Fenrir and refusing to talk about the issue like rational adults, but at the same time, she was mad at him for doing that while he was taking her out on a date.

It made her wonder if he _actually_ wanted to take her on a date or if it was just a convenient cover for him to meet up with someone to get drugs to sell.

Part of her knew that it was crazy. She knew that there _was_ a connection between her and Fenrir. That much was undeniable. She still hadn't been able to forget the way that he'd made her body sing _or_ the noises that she'd pulled from him when they'd come together in the bar after Rabastan had attacked her. She'd seen how worried he'd been about her, so she knew that he did care about her.

When she finally made it all the way to the jail, Hermione's thoughts weren't any clearer. She knew that she wanted more with Fenrir, just...could she actually live with the fact that illegal activities were a part of his life? She wasn't sure.

Stepping off the motorcycle, she left her helmet with the bike, before striding up the stairs to where Malfoy was waiting for her. Apparently, seeing her ride in, wearing tight jeans and black boots and a black leather jacket was _not_ what Draco Malfoy was expecting from the girl who was paying him to get her guardian out of jail. She didn't acknowledge him, more than a little nod of her head, before she strode past him into the jail to where she knew Sirius would be. She didn't need or want Malfoy to be there, but she knew it was just an added protection for Sirius.

The guard was no more helpful this time than he was before, though Sirius did have the benefit of not being handcuffed this time, which was a positive. Hermione was able to wrap her arms around him tightly, and feel him reciprocate. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, squeezing her so tightly that she found it difficult to breath. "Sirius!" she wheezed.

Laughing, Sirius released her, before urging her to sit down at the table. "Glad to see you again, princess," he said with a lopsided smile. As far as she could tell, Remus was right. Sirius did alright in prison. He didn't look the least bit stressed by being there or by being in court. He always seemed to have that kind of carefree attitude that everything was going to work out for him, and usually it did. For someone who was (typically) a rule follower, it was a bit annoying to see.

Hermione looked at her guardian, his pink jumpsuit still open far lower than what was regulation, with a smirk on her face. "No new ink this time, Sirius?"

"No, wouldn't want to disappoint you," Sirius responded, though he gave her a look up and down seeing her outfit. "Though, I wouldn't be surprised if you had some, now," he said with a grin. "Working at Howl has really changed you, pet. You look almost like one of the _gang_ now."

Hermione felt herself blush, though she hoped he couldn't guess the real reason why. "I am just trying to use proper protective equipment while I am riding the Bonnie," she chided him, wanting him to know that she was at least being responsible.

"Yes, do tell me who it was that taught you how to ride it if it wasn't Remus?" Sirius asked, his jovial look falling from his face. "I've had hours locked up to ponder that question and wait for your answer, and I must say...I'm stumped."

"Would you believe me if I told you it was a boy, just a bit older than me called Theo?" she asked, with a tone in her voice that made Sirius narrow his eyes at her.

"Theo?" he repeated, clearly not believing her.

"Well, he's asked me to call him Teddy," Hermione said with a blush. "You know, Remus has a son called Teddy, as well, he's just turned four, absolutely adorable." Her hope that Sirius would be distracted by her change in topic was quickly thwarted as he gave her a pointed look. Hermione sighed, knowing that she _had_ promised Remus that she would tell Sirius the truth, and she _was_ a woman of her word. "Fenrir."

She was expecting Sirius to have some kind of big blow out, screaming, and maybe knock over his chair. She was expecting him to forbid her from seeing him again or to work at howl anymore, in some kind of overprotective way. But, she never expected him to sit in silence. "Sirius, please say something. I promise that your bike is still in excellent condition."

"Fenrir _Greyback?_ " he finally asked, lifting his head slowly. "Hermione do you honestly think that I am more worried about my bike than your well being?"

Hermione felt a little bit guilty for the way that her mind had jumped to that conclusion but she knew that he cared about her a lot. Still, his bike was kind of his pride and joy. "Of course not Sirius. I just wanted..." She wasn't really sure what she'd wanted.

"You've been spending time with Greyback? Fenrir Greyback?" Sirius asked, as though she might know a dozen Fenrirs and she'd just gotten confused about which one had spent a whole Saturday teaching her the ins and outs of a carbureted engine. She was sure that she would never forget that day, seeing as it was one of the big catalysts in their relationship.

"Yes, Sirius. He's been really nice to me actually," she said, with a blush. There was no way that she was going to go into their relationship or their date with Malfoy sitting in the room, knowing that he'd surely have something to say about her going out on a date when she'd said she just didn't have the time for it. "He even helped me the other day when someone tried to rob the bar. Protected me."

"I'm just going to try and pretend like you didn't suggest that you were working alone in the bar when Remus promised that he would look after you," Sirius said with a frown. "But you really want me to believe that Greyback was protecting you? He was probably just protecting the bar, after all, he has a _vested_ interest in it."

"Yes, he was protecting me," Hermione hissed, thinking of the concerned way that Fenrir had looked at her when he found her after Rabastan had attacked her, the look in his eyes when he cleaned her hand, or the worried way he'd pressed a bag of frozen peas to her bruised cheek. "I know that he might come off as sort of...crude or mean even, but he's different around me."

"Mean? Hermione he's dangerous," Sirius whispered, so low that even Malfoy couldn't hear it. "Hermione he traffics drugs."

Hermione wanted to throw her hands up in the air. "Really Sirius? You are being held in jail for laundering drug money! I don't know if you can really talk about it from a _moral_ perspective," she argued. The worst part of it was that Hermione was beginning to realize that perhaps Sirius...wasn't so innocent. She'd learned the same thing about Remus. After all, there was a reason why they were still involved in Howl. There was no pulling the rug over her eyes any longer.

There were shades of gray in this world. Things weren't so black and white as she'd liked to believe when she was still a _good girl_ in San Francisco, before her parents had been killed. Even she wasn't completely innocent, seeing as she'd nearly killed Rabastan, and in all honesty, she wasn't sure that he hadn't died. The news reports had been empty, but that wasn't definitive proof that he was still alive.

"You are right," Sirius conceded, running both of his hands through his wavy, black hair, before looking up at her apologetically. "You have to know how terrible I feel about being locked up in here, when I should be looking after you." From the look in his grey eyes, Hermione knew that he was telling the truth. "I am just trying to protect you, Hermione."

She grabbed his hand from across the table, giving him a smile. "I can't wait for the day that I can get you out of here, Sirius. But, I don't want you to worry about me. I am learning that I am pretty good at protecting myself too," she said with a grin, that he returned.

Her discussion with Sirius had been incredibly eye opening, and had helped her way more than any amount of time to herself or time to clear her thoughts could have done. Yes, Fenrir was a dangerous man, and he was doing illegal business, but Hermione also knew that he had another side to him. He was kind and gentle with _her_. He cared about _her_. So she thought that...just maybe, she could live with his illicit activities after all. At the very least, she wanted to see where their relationship would go.

She needed to talk to Fenrir.

When Hermione left the jail, another check hastily shoved into Malfoy's hand, Hermione never even thought about heading home for the day. Instead, she had only one destination in mind: Howl.

It was dark when she arrived, and the bar was certainly busy, based on the number of motorcycles parked out in front of it. It meant that the coming conversation was going to be harder than she was anticipating, knowing that it would mean setting aside her pride for once.

Fenrir was easy to pick out of the crowd, and Hermione was beginning to believe that she was just so...enamored with him, that she was uniquely attuned to him. Squaring her shoulders, she walked up to him, before tapping him on the back. "Fenrir, can I talk to you for a minute. Alone," she said, her voice not projecting the kind of confidence she was hopping.

He gave her a sad smile, before nodding. "Peach, I wasn't expecting to see you here tonight," he said, before nodding. "Shall we take this outside?" Seeing her nod, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leading her into the chilly night. It was a clear night, and the stars were brilliant in the sky. When she didn't say anything, but didn't shrug out from under his arm either, Fenrir prodded her for more information. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"I thought a lot about it...about what being in a relationship with you means. I won't try to change you," Hermione said, her eyebrows knit together when she tried to think of the best way to say what she wanted. "I don't...like what you do, but...I think I can live with it. I can accept that it's a part of you. Just, can you please leave me out of it?"

He looked at her hard, perhaps trying to read if she was telling the truth, before he gave her a quick nod. "I can do that, Peach. No more _business_ when I take you out on dates," he agreed, before cupping her cheek sweetly. Dipping his head, Fenrir captured her lips in a bruising kiss, convincing her that there were no hard feelings between them.


	13. Chapter 13

Draco had been fuming ever since the night he saw Hermione inviting the biker into her home, realizing that she had lied to him about not dating anyone while her guardian was facing such serious legal trouble. He was going to bring the man down, and prove to Hermione once and for all that he was a much better choice than some low-life biker.

The only problem was that he wasn't able to figure out who the mysterious biker was. He wasn't brave enough to leave his car and get any kind of registration information off the motorcycle which was conveniently locked in Hermione's garage, and he couldn't remember the license plate number either. When he'd called that disgusting hovel, Howl, the man who answered the phone had actually laughed at him when he asked about which outlaw club used the bar.

He was beginning to think that it was hopeless, until the answer had literally fallen into his lap, out of Hermione's own mouth. He'd been hidden in the corner of the visitor's room at the jail, trying to blend into the wall; he wanted to give the appearance that he was giving Sirius and Hermione space and privacy, but his ears were wide open for anything that he could use.

And Draco could use a name.

Fenrir Greyback was an unusual enough kind of name that he wasn't difficult to look up. What was disappointing was the absolute lack of an arrest record that the man had. He had a smattering of assault charges for drunken brawls, but it seemed like all of the charges were a decade old. Draco was still haunted by one particular mugshot where the man was smiling, his teeth stained with his own blood from taking a punch on the mouth. How Hermione could be attracted to this kind of heathen was beyond him.

The official record on Fenrir Greyback was incredibly boring. He was raised by a single mother, father unknown. When his mother died, he'd started working at a mechanics shop, and that was apparently where he got started with motorcycles. Draco just knew that the man was into illegal activity, but he couldn't _find_ anything about it.

Luckily for him, his business representing clients who were usually up for drug charges, not to mention his father's own sphere of influence, meant that Draco had all sorts of shady connections, who were _more_ than happy to give him all sorts of information on Fenrir Greyback, his little _group_ the Iron Wolves, and their business smuggling cocaine up from Mexico.

This was something that he could work with.

* * *

After such a long day at the bar, Hermione wanted nothing more than to get home and sink into a hot bath. She'd been working all day, seeing as there was a huge influx of semi drivers, in addition to the fact that apparently every member of the Iron Wolves had decided to come in as well. Hermione had spent the day, running between tables, collecting empty glasses, filling drink orders and trying to avoid being harassed by the semi drivers who hadn't got the message that she was off limits. Pretty much all of the Iron Wolves had figured out that she was... _something_ with Fenrir and treated her like one of their own. Theo still flirted with her shamelessly, but they both knew that nothing was going to come of it.

She'd had to kick out one man, and had another very persistent, very drunk man, who insisted on telling her that her shorts would look much better on his bedroom floor, removed. Normally, she would have cringed from the violent way the guys dragged him out of his chair, but after the day she had she was too tired to be bothered.

Hermione had hoped that she'd at least be able to see Fenrir — maybe steal a couple of kisses while she was on her break — but he was conspicuously absent that day. She asked Remus if he knew why Fenrir would be gone, but the older man had just shrugged his shoulders. Since she had Sirius's pseudo-blessing, Remus didn't argue with her about...having a relationship with the burly man, but he certainly wasn't trying to encourage it either.

Maybe Fenrir was just trying to take their talk to heart, not involving her in any _business_ deals that he had, and that's why he hadn't told her that he would be gone. Still, she thought, biting her lower lip, it would be nice to know when she was going to see him again, so she could have something to look forward to.

She left the bar, eager to get home and relax. Swinging her leg over the Bonnie, Hermione easily started the motorcycle. Smiling, she wondered how she ever could have thought that she wouldn't be able to start it. It seemed so simple now. Letting the throttle out, Hermione peeled out onto the crumbling highway, eager to feel the wind on her face.

The Bonnie was so zippy that Hermione found it nearly impossible to follow the speed limits. That, or maybe Fenrir's fast way of driving had just worn off on her. She was halfway home when she sped past a speed trap, cursing under her breath when she saw the car throw on its lights and pull out on the highway behind her.

Just her luck, Hermione thought, realizing that she still didn't have a motorcycle license. Sirius had made her promise that she was going to get one, even though Fenrir had laughed at her when she mentioned it. He'd told her that it wasn't really necessary, but she figured that the police officer would think differently. She pulled over to the side of the road, hoping that if she just cooperated, she would get let off with a warning.

Two officers exited the car, and walked their way over to her, a man and a woman. The woman seemed to dislike Hermione as soon as she laid eyes on her, but that could just be on account of the pug-like look of her face. The man seemed much nicer, offering her a brief smile, before acting professionally. "Miss, do you know why we pulled you over?" he asked.

"Um. I was speeding," Hermione said, again hoping that honesty would go a long way with him. She happily handed over her license to him when he asked, looking at him sheepishly, praying that he could overlook her lack of proper license.

The woman made a big show of sniffing the air. "You smell like Bourbon Street on a Saturday," she said with a scowl, obviously disgusted with Hermione.

"Have you been drinking Miss?" the male officer asked, perhaps agreeing with his partner.

"No, Officer Boot," Hermione said, reading off his name tag, trying to show them that she was alert and paying attention to her surroundings. "I just work in a bar. Patrons can get a bit sloppy and well...getting spilled on is a hazard of the job, I guess," she said with a shrug.

He stepped back from her for a moment, so that he and the female officer could whisper about whatever it was they needed to. Hermione tried to stand there patiently, knowing that they would just let her go, and she could be on her way. However, the fates were not on her side that day, it seemed, because when Officer Boot walked back towards her he was frowning. "Miss Granger, I am sorry, but because of your lack of license for a motorcycle, as well as the smell of alcohol on you, I am going to have to give you a field sobriety test, while Officer Parkinson here searches your vehicle."

Hermione closed her eyes, before nodding her head. She might as well get this over with. She had nothing to hide — she hadn't had a drop of alcohol that day and she didn't have anything on the bike to worry about. As soon as she complied, the sooner they would let her off with just a little speeding ticket.

Officer Boot had her pacing up and down the painted lane of the highway, and she hoped she was impressing him with her show of balance. After he'd put her through the rest of the paces — including a humiliating attempt at saying the alphabet backwards — Officer Boot came to the conclusion that she was not impaired.

Only, when they walked back over to the bike, Officer Parkinson was waving him over, leaving Hermione to stand by herself once again while they had a secret conference. This time, when Officer Boot turned back to face her, it was with a grimace. "Miss, we found a significant amount of cocaine on your motorcycle. I am placing you under arrest. Now walk over to the cruiser and put your hands on the hood."

Instantly, her mind was in overdrive. They found _what_ on the bike?! There was no way that they could connect the cocaine to her? Was it possible that Sirius had...left some drugs before he went to jail and then didn't want to tell her because the warden might overhear him telling her about it? That seemed just as preposterous as the cocaine being there at all. Sirius would have just forbidden her from riding it if that was the case.

"It's not mine," Hermione said weakly, though she complied with the officer's orders. Then she shut up because he started to mirandize her, reminding her that her words could only be used against her in court. He gave her a pat down, before handcuffing her and helping her into the backseat of the cruiser.

Ugh, this was just the worst day Hermione could possibly imagine. She didn't know what she was going to do, but the little smirk that Officer Parkinson gave her in the rearview mirror didn't reassure her. Once Officer Boot had arranged for the Bonnie to be impounded, they drove into town, towards their local precinct.

* * *

Hermione had been booked already, even going through the humiliation of having a _mugshot_ taken of her, before they left her to wait in general holding. Her only companion was a passed out woman, who had unfortunately vomited on herself, and therefore had a very unpleasant odor. Hermione supposed that it was a little bit better than having an aggressive man who couldn't keep his hands to himself, though.

Parkinson seemed to be enjoying Hermione's plight, because she kept walking back and forth in front of the holding cell and giving Hermione little updates. "We just processed your evidence. Hope you are enjoying jail because the DA has a really low tolerance for people involved in drugs. Like _you_."

It took everything inside her to bite her tongue and not snap back with a reply that would get her in trouble.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed when she finally saw Officer Boot again. Pressing herself against the bars, she called out to him. "Say, Officer Boot, don't I get a phone call or something?" Hermione wasn't stupid. She knew what her rights were, and she knew that she was allowed to call for assistance. And assistance was definitely something that she needed at this point.

"Didn't you already have yours?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Seeing Hermione shake her head adamantly. "Pansy said you'd declined." Seeing Hermione's look of annoyance, Boot seemed to understand that Parkinson had been less than truthful. "Fucking Parkinson," he whispered under his breath.

"I'm going to make a complaint against her," Hermione said flippantly. "She's been terrorizing me all night."

Officer Boot gave her a smile, but opened the door to general holding. "Come on, let's get you that phone call," he said, leading her through the serpentine hallways, until she was just in a room with a phone on a table.

Hermione sat down and stared at the phone. She got her phone call, yes, but now she had no idea who she should call. There was no way she was going to call Fenrir. Maybe Remus? He would have the money to bail her out, only, bail hadn't been set yet. No, she needed someone with a little more swaying power, someone who knew the system and who could get her out of here. She needed a lawyer.

Hating that she had his number memorized, Hermione lifted the phone and started dialing. It only took one ring before he was answering. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy? I am in jail. Can you come help me please?"


	14. Chapter 14

It wasn't too much longer after she'd called Malfoy that Officer Boot was bringing her into one of the interrogation rooms to wait for her attorney to show up. God, Hermione wondered just why she'd had to go and call Malfoy, not wanting her life any more entangled with his than it already was. Still, he was the only lawyer whose number she had memorized, so she supposed she shouldn't be too hard on herself about it.

She could have called Fenrir, except she had no idea how to get ahold of him. She could have called Remus, but she was afraid of what kind of judgement he might bestow on her for getting herself mixed up in this kind of situation. Would he believe her if she told him that the drugs weren't her's, and she'd never seen them in her whole life? Hermione supposed she would never really know the answer to that, seeing as she had called Malfoy, out of all of her options, and now he was coming here to help her out.

Hermione wasn't sure if she should feel a little bit of relief when she finally saw that white blond hair of Malfoy's pop into the room. "Hermione, wish we were meeting under better circumstances," he said with a wry smile.

She looked him over. This was the most casual he'd seen her, with a baby blue collared shirt and khaki shorts that did nothing for his complexion. "Yes, thank you for coming," Hermione said. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything important."

Malfoy gave her an indulgent smile. "Hermione, nothing is too important when you are the one asking for help," he told her, staring into her eyes. It made her uncomfortable, but she supposed if that was the way he wanted to be, there wasn't much she could do to stop him. After all, she was in dire need of his help if she didn't want to spend the rest of the night in jail. "Now, I understand that you were found in possession of a large quantity of cocaine during a routine traffic stop?" he asked, taking the time to leaf through her intake paperwork.

"Well, yes, I was speeding, and I didn't have the proper license to ride my motorcycle, but I swear to God, Malfoy, I have no idea where the drugs came from. I've never even touched drugs before," Hermione said, knowing that it probably wasn't the smartest idea to admit guilt.

He held his hands up to her. "Hermione, shh, calm down. I believe you," he said, staring into her eyes with confidence. "But in the future, I would not admit to anything. Let me do all the talking for you, okay?" he asked with a laugh. "Now, can you think of anyone who might have put the drugs on the motorcycle? I understand that you've been working at a bar frequented by a motorcycle gang that is known for trafficking."

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion about what he was saying. Surely, he couldn't be suggesting that the Iron Wolves had been using her as an unwitting drug mule, could he? After all, that would have to be done at Fenrir's behest and they'd _just_ had a conversation about keeping her out of his business. She didn't believe that he would go back on his promise so quickly, it just wasn't possible.

She shook her head, nibbling on her lower lip. "No, they wouldn't have done that. I trust the guys at Howl, and I know that they wouldn't do something like this to me." Her mind thought about the Death Eaters, but she wasn't about to tell Draco about them, knowing that she'd severely injured Rabastan and she didn't want to be tied to that in any way.

Draco's amicable smile dropped for a moment. "Alright, let me just go discuss with the officers outside then." He stood, leaving her all alone in the little room."

She couldn't hear anything while she was in there, and the whole time, she couldn't stop thinking about what it was that had happened. Was it possible that one of the Iron Wolves could have done this to her? She knew that Fenrir had promised not to involve her in business, but it wasn't as though criminals were really known to be trustworthy. Hating herself for doubting him, Hermione rested her head on the table until they came back in.

Malfoy was flanked by Officer Boot and Officer Parkinson. "Alright, we've been having a lot of issues with motorcycle gangs in this area, so here's what we are going to do," Officer Boot said, with a smile like he was doing her some big favor. "We are going to have you collect a little information for us, and in exchange, we will drop the charges against you, except for the speeding ticket."

"Get information?" Hermione questioned, before she figured it out. "You want me to wear a fucking wire?" She might be naive, but she was smart enough to know that motorcycle gangs did _not_ take kindly to snitches. She wasn't about to put her life in jeopardy, just to get out of this, when she knew she was innocent.

"Well, if you don't think you could get the information..." Officer Parkinson said, snidely. Oh, Hermione was not a violent person, but in this moment there was nothing she wanted to do more than punch that snot-nosed little bitch in the face. She'd had an attitude with Hermione all night, and she'd purposefully kept her phone call from her. Then she had the audacity to act like she was better than Hermione in some way. It was enough to have her blood boiling.

"No, I don't think I could get any information. I am a bartender there, not a member of the gang, and definitely not a partner. What makes you think they would say anything incriminating around me in the first place?" she argued, wanting to seem like the littlest nobody in the county.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Listen, Hermione, they know about how...close you are with Greyback." He tried to tell her something with his eyes, but what that was wasn't entirely clear.

Hermione recoiled immediately. "How do you know about Greyback?" she questioned, wondering just how much Malfoy knew about her in the first place. She thought that they'd been pretty discreet so far. It wasn't as if she was shouting from the mountain tops about her new boyfriend. Had Malfoy been following her?

"Hermione," Malfoy said with a sigh, as though it were a chore to explain this to her. "I make it a habit to learn all of my clients secrets — this way, no surprises pop up at trial. But the police...they make it a habit to figure out known associates of the people that they are keeping tabs on."

That seemed a bit odd to her. The police knew her as a known associate of Fenrir? Why didn't they say anything about it when they were arresting her, then? It seemed as if Officer Boot was going to let her go before they found the cocaine on the bike.

Malfoy leaned in fairly close to her, dropping his voice an octave, even though the police could still hear everything that he was saying. "Think about it, Hermione, you might even get something on tape that could help Sirius. You know that he's been charged for doing...business with the Iron Wolves right?"

No, she had not known that at all. Perhaps that was why he'd been so insistent that she shouldn't work at Howl, but she wished that he would have just come out and said it if that was really how he felt.

"Take the deal, Hermione. Think about it, you could get out of here and help Sirius at the same time." Malfoy was really pushing her into this, wanting her to take the deal of course. Thinking about Sirius being stuck in jail, she could feel her resolve crumbling slowly. She had told her guardian that she would do whatever it took to get him out.

"How about this?" Officer Boot started. "You just give it a try. You don't even have to get any information. If it happens, it happens. This is the best option that you have Miss Granger. Really, it's your only option."

Hermione could feel tears forming in her eyes, and tried to blink them back. She didn't know _what_ to think anymore. All of this was so confusing and she knew that there wasn't really a good choice here. There was no reason for there to be drugs on the motorcycle, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. "Okay," she said, hanging her head, hoping that she hadn't just made the worst decision of her life.

* * *

After being released, Hermione reluctantly slunk into Howl. She'd been trying to put it off as long as possible, but she knew that there was no putting it off. The wire that was hidden underneath Sirius's red Beck t shirt felt like it was burning her, pressing into her skin. She felt like she was practically shouting that she was spying on them, and she hoped that they would forgive her...eventually.

Officer Boot had told her repeatedly not to press for information, just to keep her ears open. Hermione hoped that she could just...forewarn Fenrir about the wire so that he didn't say anything in front of her, and then she could be done with all this legal bullshit.

Her boyfriend was sitting at the bar, looking a little bit worse for wear, when she found him. He had a purple bruise on his jaw, looking like someone had clocked him. "Fenrir," she got his attention, her breath leaving her while she thought about the terrible, terrible mistake that she'd made agreeing to wear the wire. He looked like he was going to speak, but Hermione held her hands up. "Wait, don't say anything, let me just get a look at you."

She cupped her hands and held his jaw, frowning when he hissed from her touching the tender skin. She stared into his blue eyes and tried to mouth to him that she was wearing the wire, but he pulled her into his chest, hugging her and pressing a kiss to her forehead. His hand rested on her waist, _right_ where the wire was secured.

He froze immediately, his hand following the plastic that was hidden under his shirt, and Hermione gasped, seeing the way that his face _transformed_. "What the fuck is this, Hermione?" he demanded.

Her eyes slipped closed at this use of her first name, hating herself for doing this. She'd tried to warn him, but everything had gone to shit so quickly. "I wanted to..." she trailed off, not really sure how to go about it. She didn't think the police would appreciate her saying that she tried to warn Fenrir about the wire, but she didn't want him to be mad at her.

Fenrir stood up, nearly knocking over the chair he'd been sitting on. "Are you wearing a _fucking_ wire Hermione?" he growled — literally _growled_. "Oh, I should have known better, Peach. As soon as you walked into the bar, I knew that you were trouble, and that I should have never let Remus talk me into letting you work here, Sirius's ward or not."

"It's not like that, Fenrir. Please, I can explain," Hermione begged, tears fully formed in her eyes. "I didn't mean to-"

He laughed at her. "Oh really, Peach? You didn't mean to put on a wire today? How stupid do you think I am?" he asked. Even though he was mad, Hermione could clearly see that he was very hurt as well, faced with her betrayal. And why shouldn't he be? "I'm leaving, and by the time I get back, Peach, you better be the fuck out of this bar. And don't ever come back," he snarled.

Hermione felt tears run down her cheeks, and she could feel the eyes of the few patrons left in the bar staring at her with disdain and pity. Fenrir turned on his heel, massive fists clenched to his sides, looking like he had to restrain himself from breaking something. "Fenrir, wait!" she called after him, not wanting him to walk out of her life completely, but he didn't even hesitate as he walked out of Howl, slamming the door behind him.


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione ran out of Howl after Fenrir, but by the time she got outside, he was already on the back of his bike, peeling out down the highway and away from her. She ran to the edge of the highway, but if he saw her, he didn't care — he didn't even slow down a little bit.

She let out a yell, before kicking a bit of the gravel on the side of the road. She couldn't believe how terrible her last twenty-four hours had gone. To be arrested by the police at all had been humiliating, especially because she had absolutely no idea how all that cocaine had ended up on the Triumph. She'd been so overwhelmed at the police station, and she couldn't even believe that she'd faltered for a moment and agreed to wear this fucking wire.

When Malfoy had suggested that Fenrir might be involved in the cocaine on her bike, she didn't want to believe it. They had just agreed to keep their relationship separate from his business. But as time went on, and she talked more and more with Malfoy, the more the possibility of it wormed its way inside her brain. She'd thought that she'd had no choice but to wear the wire, and now she'd destroyed any chance of being with Fenrir.

Despite herself, she felt tears rolling down her cheeks in big, salty drops. Knowing that she was going to need some time to cool off before she went back to the bar to answer all kinds of questions she was bound to get, she kept walking down the lonely stretch of highway. She knew that all the rest of the Iron Wolves would have heard their argument and would know that she was wearing a wire. She didn't want to think about what they might do to her.

It was probably five minutes later when she heard another motorcycle coming up the road. Hermione knew that it wasn't unusual that you would hear a motorcycle, but she couldn't help the leap of hope in her belly that it was Fenrir, come back to discuss things like adults. She had tried to warn him about it — wouldn't that mean anything to him? Hearing the engine slow down and come to a stop, Hermione turned a bright smile on her face.

Only to have it drop immediately.

The last person that she expected to see was Tom Riddle, the leader of the Death Eaters, swinging a leg over the bike, so that he could approach her. "Oh, so I see that you remember who I am," he said, a smirk maring his perfect features. His dark hair was tousled and his deep blue eyes reflected a sinister kind of delight. "You have been causing a lot of trouble."

She froze, her entire body held in tension. The idea that Tom Riddle was telling her that she was trouble had her heart beating faster than a rabbit's, and she wanted nothing more to run away, but there was nowhere to go. "What do you want with me?" she demanded, needing him to leave her alone.

"Well, I don't really want anything to do with you, but Rabastan told me something interesting the other day. He said that our mutual _friend,_ Greyback, was very concerned for your safety...so, unfortunately for you...I am going to have to jeopardize your safety to get him to come face me," Tom said with a sneer.

"Didn't you see what I did to Rabastan when he came to talk to me?" Hermione asked, jutting out her chin. "Who's to say I won't do the same to you?"

His derisive laugh was deafening out on the deserted stretch of highway. "Oh, don't be ridiculous," he lunged at her before she was able to run one way or the other, wrapping his arms around her body, pinning her arms to her sides. He picked her up easily, as though she were a small child, dragging her back over to his bike. Hermione kicked and screamed, and struggled as much as she possibly could, but it was no use. Tom was _much_ stronger than her and easily overpowered her.

Picking her up, he put her in front of him on the motorcycle, before taking off down the highway, away from Howl. Hermione knew that this was her best chance of escape, when he didn't have a hold on her, but she also knew that it was dangerous to try and jump off a motorcycle moving at over 60 miles per hour, so she just held on.

Hermione wasn't sure how long they drove, but it wasn't too long before they were coming up to a dark, seedy looking bar. Tom parked and pulled her off the motorcycle, dragging her by her upper arm inside and into a backroom. To her utter dismay, Rabastan, Rodolphus and Bellatrix were all waiting for her there, looking more than pleased to see her. Tom threw her into Rabastan's waiting arms.

"Ah, Peaches I see that you remember our last conversation," Rabastan said, holding her in his lap, pinning her arms down to her side. She tried wriggling out of his grasp, but it quickly became clear to her that he was _enjoying_ himself, and so she stilled. Rodolphus noticed what happened and laughed in at him. "Go and get the rope, will you, Dolph?"

She was horrified to realize that they meant to tie her up, and that they seemed to be very good at doing it. With her arms tied behind her body, Rabastan reluctantly lifted her from his lap, before settling her into a chair, where he tied her legs to the chair legs. Hermione was incredibly uncomfortable to have Rabastan so close to her bare legs, and he did nothing to comfort her, biting her inner thigh, before giving her a grin.

Bellatrix cackled, seeing her obvious discomfort. "Shall we give you little mongrel boyfriend a call, then?" She pulled out a phone and dialed a number before handing it over to Tom.

It rang several times before someone answered. "Greyback. Tom Riddle here. Listen, I've got someone here that I think you might want back."

Tom shoved the phone against Hermione's ear. "Fenrir? Fenrir, it's Hermione. Please help me," she said, knowing that no one would realize that she was gone for a while, unless Fenrir let them know. The only problem was, she thought she might have burned a bridge with Fenrir. She could at least hope that he would tell Remus — he owed her that at least didn't he?

He took the phone away from her before she could hear any response, but Tom was quiet while he listened to whatever it was that Fenrir was saying. "Well, here is what's going to happen, Greyback. You are going to move my heroin shipment, up from Santa Ana, and then you are going to process it, bring it to me, and after that you can have your little girlfriend back." Tom Riddle did not wait to hear whatever it was that Greyback said back to him, ending the call with a smirk.

Hermione could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and Rodolphus noticed immediately, giving her a little tap on her cheek. "Cheer up, kiddo. Greyback is good at what he does. You'll be back in his mongrel arms in no time." After that, they left her to her own thoughts in the back room.

Her head was spinning, knowing that Fenrir wasn't likely to come for her. After all, he'd told her what he thought of her right before she left Howl. Hermione knew that he thought she was a snitch since she was wearing the wire. He probably thought that she was playing him this whole time, but it wasn't true. She'd grown to have genuine feelings for him and she was just so mad at herself for jeopardizing that.

Worst of all was wondering just what the Death Eaters would do to her if Fenrir didn't come through.

* * *

The Death Eaters hadn't told Hermione anything about what was going on with Fenrir, which had left her in a constant state of anxiety. It was worse being in the little backroom, because she had no idea how much time had passed. Had Remus noticed that she was gone yet? Or her friends from school? It was a weekend, so she doubted they would have until it was time for class on Monday.

The only positive was that the thing that had gotten her into this whole mess was proving to be a great advantage. She still had the wire on her, and the Death Eaters were completely clueless to that fact, so they did _not_ hold back about their drug business. Hermione hoped that she'd still be able to use this as leverage when she got a chance to get it back to the police.

That was, until, the Death Eaters had the most unusual visitor. The man was older, but obviously related to Draco, so much so that she thought it _was_ her lawyer at first. "Malfoy?" She asked, shocked to see him, only to have the man turn and give her a tight smile.

"Ah, and just who is our _little_ guest?" Malfoy asked the rest of the Death Eaters. "I must speak with my son about not gallivanting with cretins." It clicked then for Hermione that this must be Draco's father, but it led her to question, just what on Earth was he doing here? Hermione knew that from her research Draco and his father were partners at their law practice, so...why would a lawyer of Malfoy's caliber be here?

"Just a little bit of leverage, though Rabastan is kind of hoping that we can keep her," Tom said, with a grin, before going into detail about their movements. Apparently, they wanted to expand their business into Texas, and the elder Malfoy was only too happy to provide advice and counseling. Again, Hermione was aghast that he was doing this, but she figured he was probably getting some kind of cut of the money for his retainer.

"Tell me about the books in Black's case. He's not going to be getting out anytime soon is he?" Tom asked, sitting on the edge of his case. "Ever since he turned down my offer, I want to make sure he rues the day."

Hermione could barely contain her gasp, but managed by biting down so hard on her tongue that she could taste the blood in her mouth. Clearly they had no idea who she was if they were talking about setting Sirius up right in front of her. In an instant, she was incredibly grateful that she _was_ wearing the wire. Otherwise, she would have absolutely no proof that Sirius was innocent.

"I've had our accountant working on his books, and I think you will find that Sirius Black was not as good at separating legitimate business from his work with the Iron Wolves." Lucius said with a shark like grin. "My son has been making a good show of trying to help him out, stringing along the little ward of his. I believe he even recently arranged to have her picked up on drug charges herself. It will only help to bolster the case against Black."

Rodolphus laughed out loud at that. "God, what a fucking idiot. Glad we have you on our side Lucius. I know I'd be in prison several times over if you hadn't been on our side."

Lucius sneered at the man, whom Hermione realized Lucius thought was incredibly _beneath_ him. "Yes, well that's what you pay me for isn't it?" He turned back to Tom Riddle. "So, when do you think all this Mexican business will be handled? I have to say that some of our investors are getting a little bit...antsy with the lack of a regular schedule. And you know that antsy people are people that might talk."

"You don't have to remind me," Tom said, rubbing his hand across his face. Hermione had absolutely no sympathy for him, if he found running an illegal drug empire _taxing_. He turned to look at Hermione where she sat listening quietly. "I am sure that we will have everything figured out soon, or else our _leverage_ will have outstayed her welcome."


	16. Chapter 16

Fenrir was glad to see that when he got back from his ride to cool off that Hermione had heeded his advice and was actually gone. He felt so stupid, thinking that a girl like her might have actually been interested him him. His mind produced several images of them kissing or even the time that they'd fucked against the bar as proof, but he shoved those memories down, knowing that they must have just been a ploy to get him to open up to her.

He should have known that his first instinct was correct, when he thought that she was a narc,

the first day that he'd seen her working behind the bar. She'd been dressed like one, trying so _hard_ to be professional, and it was clear that she'd thought he was scum the first time that they'd spoke. Growling, Fenrir slammed his fist down against the bar, breaking the skin on two of his knuckles.

"Jesus, Fenrir, what's happened?" Remus asked, pouring him a glass of whiskey, full to the brim.

Fenrir looked at the poor sap, wondering just how involved he was, just how much he knew about Hermione Granger. It wouldn't have just been the Iron Wolves on the line if she'd collected anything with that fucking wire, Remus would have gone down with him. "Caught Hermione wearing a wire," he said, enjoying the burn of the whiskey.

"What?" Remus asked, sounded thoroughly perplexed. "That's impossible, Fenrir. I know that girl, there is no way...something must have happened." His eyebrows were furrowed together in concentration. "That lawyer she got for Sirius...he's pushing her to do this or something. I don't trust the way that he looks at her."

Before Fenrir could argue with his friend any more, his phone was ringing and he picked it up, seeing that it was none other than Tom Riddle calling. Rubbing his hand over his face, this was the last conversation he wanted to have at a time like this. Still, he answered. Immediately, he stilled, hearing that smug little bastard telling him that they had taken Hermione, and then...hearing her desperate voice pleading for help had his stomach sinking in fear. Once Tom Riddle had hung up, Fenrir couldn't stop his scream, "FUCK!"

"Was that Hermione?" Remus questioned anxiously, having been close enough to the phone to hear the panicked tone of her voice. Fenrir knew that with Sirius Black in jail, Remus felt a personal kind of responsibility for the girl. If only he'd known to keep her on a tighter leash, she might not have gotten herself taken.

"Yes. Riddle wants me to run some heroin for him in exchange for her life," Fenrir told him miserably, finishing the rest of his whiskey. Fuck, he didn't have any idea what to do. He didn't think that he had ever been more furious, more hurt by a woman in his whole life, but to leave her to the fate that the Death Eaters likely had planned for her was cruel, even for him. Still, he wasn't going to just be Riddle's little errand boy.

"Well, what are you going to do?" Remus asked, his voice taking on a slightly desperate tone. "You can't just leave her there."

"I can fucking do what I like," Fenrir groused back at the other man, running his hand across his face again. "Fuck, of course, I won't just leave her there...but, I can't be in Riddle's pocket. We both know that it wouldn't be a one-time thing."

"So, we fucking storm that place and get her back!" Remus shouted, pounding his hand on the table and gathering the attention of a few of the other patrons. The barman at Howl was normally so quiet and well mannered that the outburst was surprising enough to warrant interest.

Fenrir smirked up at his friend. "Did you just say _we_?"

* * *

He'd decided to take just a small force with him to the snake pit that the Death Eaters called a home. Yes, it meant that they wouldn't have much back up, but the fewer number of people that went in, the less likely they were to attract unwanted attention. Fenrir wanted to just get in, get Hermione, and get out. Which was easier said than done.

Remus couldn't be talked out of going, and had decided to take the Triumph that was left behind by Hermione. Theo had volunteered to go with, seeing as he'd formed an interesting friendship with Fenrir's girl over the months she'd been working at the bar, though in all honesty, he wished she was Theo's girl first. The final two in the force moving out were Reggie, a mean old man who'd seen his share of fighting, and a quiet, dangerous man called Antonin who was good with a knife.

Equipped with enough guns to take down the whole fucking bar, Fenrir talked the rest of the Iron Wolves through his plan, before they all got on their bikes and rode out to the other bar. The whole way over, Fenrir could feel his heart tighten with fear as he thought about how long he'd left Peach with the Death Eaters. They'd decided to go as late into the night as possible, knowing that most of the Death Eaters would be drunk or high enough to not put up much of a fight. He remembered how he and Peach and left Rabastan the last time, and he just hoped that she'd be left unharmed.

They killed their engines once they got to the bar, the music loud enough to disguise their entrance. When they were all ready, Fenrir shoved his way in through the door, grabbing the first baby Death Eater he could find, and pointing a gun to his head. "Got some business with Riddle. Tell me where he is," he demanded.

The boy was frightened and confused, and pointed to a door with a slot. Knowing that they would have some kind of gatekeeper then, he kept his arm around the boy, not losing his hold, and keeping the gun pressed against his temple. Cocking the gun, he smirked at feeling the boy's whimper.

Indicating where they were headed next, he was pleased to see that the rest of the bar seemed completely oblivious to what was happening, or even that there were intruders. Remus knocked on the door, and they waited for the slot to open, before shoving the boy's head against the opening. "Open the fucking door!" Fenrir growled.

As soon as the door was open a little, Remus got his hands in it and wrenched it open, using a strength that even Fenrir didn't realize he had. They muscled their way in, Antonin punching the gatekeeper, before grabbing him around the neck, pressing the knife against the skin, enough to break it.

Fenrir pushed his hostage into Theo's arm, before taking stock of the room. Before he could get two steps into the room, Rodolphus came running at him, ready to tackle him. Crouching down, Fenrir knocked the man in his stomach, flipping Rodolphus over his back, and leaving him winded. Lifting up his leg, he stopped his boot down on the man's stomach, satisfied with the impact he made.

A yell caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see Bellatrix wielding an empty bottle over her head, ready to swing at him. Ducking just in time, he laughed in Bellatrix's face when she windmilled around, and was sent crashing to the ground, broken glass flying everywhere. She struggled to stand, only to grind the glass into her palms.

Theo was engaging Rodolphus, and he turned to Remus. "You deal with these two. I'm going to find Peach." Slipping through to the only door that he could find, it was easy to find Hermione after that. She was tied to a chair, her hands behind her back.

She gasped at seeing him, gun drawn and bloody knuckled. "Fenrir!" she called, "Look out behind you!"

He turned around only to get a punch to his jaw from Rabastan. Fenrir reeled backwards, his mind spinning from the force. He staggered, once, twice, before regaining his bearings. Rabastan looked ready to punch him again, so Fenrir threw his hand across Rabastan's face, smacking him with his gun.

With Rabastan lying on the floor, Fenrir stood over him. To his surprise, the dark haired man just laughed. "With how _delicious_ Peaches is, I understand why you'd go to all the trouble to come get her."

Fenrir could feel his blood boiling in his veins at the words that had his stomach churning in despair. Keeping his gun trained at Rabastan, Fenrir turned to look at Hermione. "What does he mean? What did he do to you?" he demanded.

"Fenrir," Hermione whimpered, obviously shocked at the violence.

"Tell me! What the fuck did he do to you?" Fenrir growled.

Her eyes were swimming with tears when she told him that he'd licked her skin and bit her leg and fed her food by hand. "Please don't do it, Fenrir. He isn't worth it. I just want to go home," she pleaded, making his heart soften.

Fuck, he didn't want to listen to her. He wanted nothing more than to force feed Rabastan the barrel of his gun, but...she was right. He had to get her back. Instead, he punched the man once more with the gun in hand, satisfied at the sound of the crunch of bone. If he was lucky, the man wouldn't go to the hospital and might have irreparable damage.

Loosing Hermione of her bonds, she thanked him, wrapping her arms around his body. "Thank you for coming, Fenrir. I thought you wouldn't come. I — Riddle left here earlier, before you showed up."

Unable to speak to the girl, Fenrir nodded in thanks, knowing that they could leave for now. There was likely to be a war at this point, so there would be time for bloodshed in the future. But for now, Hermione was safe, and the four others he'd brought were safe. Pulling her out of the room, he gathered the rest of his Iron Wolves so they could slip out and return to Howl.

Remus was exhausted and didn't argue when Fenrir lifted Hermione onto the back of his bike. It made Fenrir's stomach do flip-flops when he felt Hermione's timid arms come to wrap around his middle, pressing herself against him so tightly. Again, it made his mind swirl with happier memories, and now that he had her back in his arms, he couldn't tell if those memories were real or just fabricated to get him to open up to her.

When they returned to Howl, the bar dark and closed, Fenrir gently pulled her off of the bike, keeping his body rigid when she melted into him. "I didn't think you'd come for me. You were so mad. I went after you, to explain, but then you were gone," Hermione pleaded, and he could feel his resolve wavering. She seemed so earnest in her assertions, but he didn't want to be made a fool a second time.

Pulling himself out of his grasp, he turned to face the rest of the Wolves, who were all ready to get drunk after an intense night of fighting. Theo was bleeding under one of his eyes and looked like he'd lost a tooth from the amount of blood in his mouth. He'd need to be patched up. "Hey, all of you, keep an eye out for one another the next few days. The Death Eaters are going to be ready for retaliation," he ordered.

Hermione whined, low and in the back of her throat. "Fenrir, please, won't you let me explain to you?" she asked him, grabbing onto his arm, trying to get him to pay attention to her once again.

Ignoring her, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of being acknowledged, not wanting her to think that there was a face of forgiveness after she'd betrayed him, betrayed all of them, he gave her back a gentle press until she stumbled towards Remus. "Take her home, Remus. I don't want to see her at Howl again," he insisted.

It hurt to hear her begin to cry, and to watch Remus pull her in for a tight hug, while he whispered something to her. Still, the barman led Peach towards his truck so that he could return her to her home so that she could get some rest. Grimacing, Fenrir led the other guys into the bar. Fenrir went behind it, grabbing out glasses and pouring out healthy pours for all of them.

Theo winced, pressing a wet rag to his cheek to stop the bleeding from his cut, before regarding Fenrir with a curious look. "You and I both know that Peach is cool. She wouldn't have done what she did unless she had a reason for it." Fenrir glared at the younger man, hoping to remind him that he was in charge for a reason and that he didn't appreciate being questioned. To his dismay, Theo just shrugged his shoulders. "What, I'm just saying...maybe you should hear her out."

Fenrir grunted pressing a bit of wrapped ice to his jaw. He'd just saved Peach's perfect ass and started a war with the Death Eaters in the process. Wasn't that enough pain for his broken heart?


	17. Chapter 17

Hermione wanted to go to the police station as soon as possible to turn in her wire, knowing that she had real evidence that could be used to get Sirius released from prison, and hopefully, enough to charge some of the Death Eaters with various crimes, not least of all, her kidnapping. Remus, though, had insisted that she get some rest and that he would be back first thing in the morning to take her in. She'd been through a lot that day, and a few additional hours wasn't going to hurt Sirius.

She was so full of adrenaline still that she found it difficult to close her eyes. Even though she was rather annoyed with him for not being sensible for long enough for her to _explain_ the wire, Hermione wished that Fenrir was there to hold her. He, beyond all logic, made her feel safe. If she had been able to close her eyes, she would have been woken from the constant whining of the little coyote pup that she'd been feeding.

Sighing, Hermione kicked the covers off of her bed, before walking towards the back door. She opened the door and the coyote pup was sitting there, looking as pitiful as she felt. Remembering Fenrir's words that it was dangerous to feed a _wild_ animal, and that it might hurt her, Hermione just scoffed. One time wouldn't hurt. "Would you like to come in?" she asked the pup, waiting for it to enter the bungalow. Despite feeling a bit silly that she was talking to a coyote, she led it into the kitchen, before opening the refrigerator to grab it some meat off of a half-eaten rotisserie chicken.

Once the little pup was happily fed and had drank out of a bowl of water, Hermione had half a mind to send it back outside. Only...she was so lonely, and it was obvious that the pup didn't have anyone else. "Screw Fenrir," Hermione said to her companion. "Should we go get into bed?" Despite the animal being very wary of her, it followed her into her bedroom and was only too happy to hop up on the bed.

Hermione changed into her pajamas and slipped under the covers. There was no use wallowing in self pity. If Fenrir didn't want to listen to her, that was fine too. She had enough evidence to get Sirius out of jail, and that was what she was going to do, first thing in the morning.

* * *

Shooing the coyote pup out of her house in the morning, she left him a little bowl of water in the backyard, just in case it got too hot that day. She could hear Remus honk the horn on his truck, which meant that he was ready to take her into the police station like she'd asked. "Are you sure that you want to do this?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "I know going to the police is against Howl's rules, but when they gave me this recorder, they thought I might get something that would help out Sirius," Hermione explained the deal that Draco had cut for her _and_ the fact that he'd obviously set her up. "But the Death Eaters didn't know that I had it, so they were fairly open about what they were saying in front of me. Did you know that Lucius _Malfoy_ works with the Death Eaters?"

Remus looked genuinely surprised. Of course, he knew that Malfoy's law firm dealt with a lot of drug cases, but he'd recommended Draco Malfoy to her. He never would have done that if he'd known that he had anything to do with the Death Eaters, seeing as Sirius did have some ties to a rival gang.

When they got into the station, Hermione marched right up to the front desk. "Hello, my name is Hermione Granger and I would like to report a crime. May I speak with Officer Boot please?" she tried not to shrink under the stare that the woman at the reception desk gave her, while they waited for Officer Boot to come in.

Although he seemed surprised to see her again, Officer Boot happily ushered her into an interview room, with Remus in tow. Hermione explained to him calmly what had happened to her the day before, including being kidnapped by Tom Riddle. She then played him the tape where Lucius discussed what he had done to ensure that Sirius would go to jail, that they had been having an accountant cooking Sirius's books. "So, as you can see, I think it's fairly obvious that my lawyer, one Draco Malfoy, has been conspiring with his father, Lucius Malfoy, and the Death Eater motorcycle gang to keep Sirius in jail."

She glanced over at Remus nervously, knowing that he didn't know this part of the story, and just hoping that the man could keep his cool. "And, I think it is more clear that Malfoy must have worked with someone to plant that cocaine on my motorcycle, in order to coerce me into wearing the wire." Underneath the table, she could feel Remus squeeze her hand tightly, as though to suggest that they were going to talk about it later.

"You know, I've been uncomfortable with the way that Officer Parkinson found that cocaine so quickly. There was no way it could be hidden without me seeing it while I was talking to you next to your vehicle," Officer Boot told her, eyebrows furrowed together. "Well, Miss Granger, this time, I think I might actually be able to help you."

* * *

Hermione had thought that it would have been a matter of hours or days for Sirius to be released after she'd turned in all that damning evidence. To her disappointment, the judge ordered that everything be authenticated and to have an outside forensic accountant take a look at Sirius's books to see if what she claimed about Lucius Malfoy was correct. And, unfortunately, that took time.

She had been getting so antsy, trying to focus on school work and writing various legal motions for Sirius's release. She'd fired Draco Malfoy immediately and was determined that she could take care of it all on her own. After all, if Malfoy could do it, she sure could. With all of the money that she saved, not having to pay Malfoy's legal fees, she was able to repair the truck, and drive it up to the law library in Tucson. After all, she wasn't allowed back at Howl, seeing as Fenrir _still_ wasn't speaking to her, so she didn't have much to do anyway.

The only thing that helped her keep faith was all of the movement that had happened with the Death Eaters. After the judge heard about all of the sexual harassment that Draco Malfoy had put her through, he had his license to practice law temporarily suspended. Lucius Malfoy was arrested for his words, seeing as he practically admitted to working with the Death Eaters, taking kickbacks in their illegal drug operation. Tom Riddle had been picked up at the border with Mexico, and he had an obscene amount of uncut heroin on his person. Hermione wasn't holding her breath that he wouldn't talk his way out of jail, but she knew that he was in prison, at least until his trial, seeing as his judge had denied him bail.

But finally, the day had come where she could actually go and pick up Sirius from the jail, as he'd had all the charges against him dropped. She'd gotten up bright and early so that she could drive up to the jail and pick him up as soon as possible. Now, waiting for him to come through the doors seemed like an eternity, much longer than the whole time he'd been in jail.

When she saw him swagger out of the building, giving a mock salute to the guards on his way out, Hermione finally felt herself relax for the first time in months. Not caring if she looked silly, Hermione sprinted her way over to him. Wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug, she whispered his name. "Sirius, I am so glad to have you back!"

He hugged her back just as tightly, repeating her sentiments, before pulling away. Hermione knew that he was unlikely to admit it, but she was pretty sure that she saw tears in his eyes. It was good to have him back. Happily handing him the keys, she nudged him with her shoulder. "Why don't you show me that you still know how to drive, old man?"

Sirius nodded and they both made their way over to the truck before pulling out onto the road. He was happy to listen to her chatting away about her schooling and how well she'd been doing. She told him that she was planning on being pre-law, having spent so much time in and out of courtrooms that she was now interested in becoming a lawyer. "Don't worry — I won't go far away, just Arizona State I think." She was sure that he would be lonely, not having her at home once she left for school.

Hermione noticed that something was wrong when they missed the turnoff to go towards their house. She was confused for a moment, before turning to see that determined look on his face that she realized he was headed towards Howl. "Oh, please Sirius, don't do this today. Fenrir doesn't want to see me. I've been banished from Howl and I don't want to make him more upset at me than he already is!"

"Upset with you? He's the whole fucking reason that you were in that mess," Sirius snarled, obviously having had a lot of time to think about it while he was in jail. "And _Remus_. He promised that he'd look out for you. I need to give them a piece of my mind."

It was no use trying to talk Sirius out of this when he was on such a rampage. Hermione knew that nothing she could say would stop him and reluctantly got out of the truck, following him into the bar, still pleading at him to just go home with her.

They found Remus and Fenrir at the bar easily enough. To her horror, she watched as Sirius walked over to Fenrir, tapping him on the shoulder, and sucker punching him the minute that he turned around. "That's for Hermione you asshole!" he said, not sparing a second glance at the murderous gang leader, before turning to face Remus behind the bar. "And you! You promised that you would watch out for Hermione. You fucking brought her to work at Howl, you let her consort with fucking bikers and criminals, and you let her drive the Triumph without a license. Her life was in danger _so_ many times while she was left _alone_ here, Remus."

Hermione could feel her cheeks heat up in embarrassment that he was airing all of her business in public, especially in front of all the Iron Wolves. She'd worked hard to get them to take her seriously and not treat her like a little girl.

Remus tried to apologize, wanting Sirius to know that he agreed wholeheartedly, but that Hermione had been a bit stubborn herself, and wasn't blameless in this situation. Before the old friends could argue anymore, Fenrir was hauling Sirius up by the front of his shirt, leaving his feet dangling off the ground. "Well, if you are so worried about her, maybe you should have taught her not to snitch."

Sirius wasn't phased in the slightest at being pulled around by Fenrir. "Ha, snitch? You know, for someone who was trying to be Hermione's _boyfriend_ or _man_ or even if you were just trying to seduce her, you sure were bad at it. She had to fend off her lawyer who kept making sexual advances and threats against her, and you didn't even set him straight _once_."

Fenrir cocked his head to the side, seeing as that was clearly news to him. Hermione felt guilty at not having told Remus or Fenrir about it earlier, but she really thought that she had it handled on her own. Clearly, she had underestimated Draco Malfoy.

Sirius kept going though. "And that wire? She was coerced into wearing it by the police after she was picked up carrying cocaine on the bike. Cocaine that came through the Iron Wolves." Fenrir certainly tensed up at hearing that. "It didn't come from you, it came from their evidence room, but imagine how she must have felt. She was held overnight in jail, with no one to help her except that sleazy lawyer, who tricked her into making a bad deal."

Hermione felt Fenrir's eyes on her the instant that they fell on her face. Cautiously, she met his blue eyes, expecting them to look as angry and as hurt as they had seemed the last time they talked, but instead, she just found confusion. "Peach," he said slowly. "What the fuck is he talking about?"


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione stared at Fenrir in shock, not only because he'd finally deigned to speak with her, but because he'd called her that _awful_ nickname once again. She hated the way that it still caused a flutter in her belly, reminding her of all the reasons that she'd grown to like Fenrir in the first place. She was trying to get _over_ him, not fall into his arms again.

"Peach?" Fenrir prodded once again, when she didn't answer his question immediately. "What does he mean that you were in jail? When were you in jail?"

She knew that it did seem a bit improbable that she would have been in jail ever, seeing that she was _such_ a goody-two-shoes before she'd met the Iron Wolves.

"Yes, I spent the night in jail," she said quietly, almost unable to believe that Fenrir was actually listening to her for a change. Pity it took Sirius punching him to get him to see reason. She blushed looking around the room. "Look, could we take this outside? If we are really going to talk about...what happened between us, then I'd rather do it in private."

Fenrir looked at Sirius, before releasing his shirt, crossing the room to where she was standing so that he could lead her out of the bar. Sirius gave her a look that told her he thoroughly disapproved of this development, but she could only offer him an apologetic look. "I won't go far, I promise," she told her guardian, before following Fenrir back outside of the bar.

It was hot as the morning sun beat down on them and Hermione had to squint to look up at the man who'd turned her life completely upside down. His blue eyes looked her over with _concern_ , which made Hermione want to laugh at him. Sure, he wasn't worried about her when she'd been fucking kidnapped by another motorcycle gang, but now he was concerned that she'd spent a measly night in jail. "Well, what the hell did he mean?"

"I was driving home from Howl, and I got pulled over for speeding on the highway," Hermione said, kicking one of the loose gravel rocks that had made their way to the packed dirt that surrounded the bar. "I don't have a license to drive a motorcycle, so I was already on thin ice, but while they had me do a field sobriety test, they found cocaine on the bike."

"Where did it come from?" Fenrir asked, his hand pushing his hair out of his face. From the way that his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, it had never been more abundantly clear to Hermione that he had nothing to do with the debacle that she'd gotten herself into.

She peered up at him. "Well, the Officer told me that they tested it, and it was the same kind of cocaine that the Iron Wolves traffic...don't ask me how they figure that out."

"And you thought that I put it there?" he snarled at her, taking a step closer to her, making her back up in surprise until her back hit the wall of the building. "You really thought that I would do something like that to you, Peach?"

"What was I supposed to think?" Hermione said, feeling her hackles raise. Yes, she felt incredibly stupid now that she had ever suspected Fenrir of doing something like that, but at the time it had felt so obvious. Especially with the way that the officers and Malfoy were pushing her. "You'd just done a drug deal on our first date! And the cocaine did come from you, just via the evidence room."

"Peach, you know that I made a promise to you. Do my words mean so little to you?" He brought a hand up to her cheek, pushing a strand of hair back out of her face. It was clear that she had hurt the huge man. It was a surprise to her, because so often, Fenrir seemed so invincible to her. But, even he could be hurt obviously.

"I knew that I'd made a mistake the minute I left the police station," Hermione told him, willing him to believe her. "I am still mad I let Malfoy talk me into wearing the wire, but it really did help me to get Sirius out of prison with everything I recorded while the Death Eaters were holding me. I tried to warn you about the wire, tried to explain, but you just... _exploded_ and you wouldn't even hear me out!"

"Peach, you have to know that wearing a wire is practically a death sentence in my line of work," he said slowly, though it was clear to her that he was coming around to her with the way that he was crowding her body. She could feel the heat of his body where he'd pressed his body against her's, and she didn't resist when his hand pressed against her chin to make her look back up at him.

"You still should have listened to me," Hermione insisted, remembering just how low that she'd felt all these weeks. She hated the way that he could have her wanting him again with just one touch and no apology. "Do my words mean so little to you?" she parroted his own words back to him, trying to use them against him.

He ran the tip of his thumb over her bottom lip, his face blank as though he was fully entranced by her. "I thought that you were too good to be true," he admitted to her, his broad shoulders sagging. "Why would a smart, good girl with a perfect ass want anything to do with me? I'm obviously not good enough for you, Peach. I've been thinking this was a ploy all along, and when I felt the wire, I figured, that was it."

Hermione's face contorted in hurt when she heard his words. Of course, he was dangerous, a criminal even, and she really had no business being in any sort of a relationship, but she really, _really_ liked him. "I felt the same. What would someone like you want with me, a naive, little _girl_ , with practically no life experience?"

At hearing her words, Fenrir dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers in a fierce kiss. It was not unlike those that they had shared before, only this one quickly shifted into a kind of tenderness that hadn't been there before. His tongue easily pressed between her lips, making Hermione melt into his embrace. She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, but eventually the door swinging open had them breaking apart.

She gave an embarrassed glance to the bar's one regular customer who wasn't in the gang while he left the bar to go to the gas station next door for whatever reason. Hermione pressed her face into Fenrir's chest, just glad that it wasn't Sirius. "Oh, I wish you would have just heard me out earlier, Fenrir. It would have saved me a lot of heartbreak."

"Did I break your heart Peach?" he teased, pressing his hips into hers. "You broke my heart wearing that wire. Spent a week in the bar drinking enough so that I would feel numb instead of hurt." It was a surprisingly candid admission from Fenrir, who had never talked about his feelings with any seriousness. Perhaps their relationship had meant much more to him that he'd let on. "Why did you ever put it on?"

Hermione whined in his embrace. "Because, Malfoy made a deal for me. Said if I wore the wire they would drop all the charges against me. But he was in on it. He got Officer Parkinson to plant the drugs on the bike, he told them my route home so they could pick me up for speeding, all because he was upset that I wouldn't go on a date with him."

Fenrir picked her up by her hips, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly, while her fingers played with the dark hair at the nape of his neck. "Fucking prick. Why didn't you tell me that he was bothering you?" he asked, before pressing his lips to her neck, sucking on the skin just below her ear.

"I thought that I could handle it on my own." Hermione told him. "That if I just kept saying no that he'd take the hint. I didn't want to bother you with something silly." Her eyes slipped closed at the feeling of his lips on her skin. Oh god, had she ever missed this. There was something about Fenrir that made her feel like she was boneless.

He growled against her skin, kissing across her jaw bone, until he found her lips again. "If someone is bothering you, it's my problem to handle," he insisted possessively, sending a shiver up and down her spine. "If some guy is trying to get with my girl, I will deal with him."

"Am I your girl?" she asked, trying to sound bossy, but instead it came out breathless. "I don't remember you apologizing for hurting me." She kissed him again, her hips rocking back against his, almost against her control. God, she couldn't remember a time that she wanted him so badly.

He caught her lower lip between his teeth, giving her a little nibble before smiling at her. "Hermione, I am so sorry that I didn't listen to you earlier." He used his hand to snake under her tshirt, cupping her breast through her bra, thumb pressing against her hardening nipple. "Now please say you forgive me and that you'll be my girl again."

"I never stopped being your girl," Hermione admitted, gasping when he nipped the skin of her neck again. She felt drunk with the feelings that he was creating inside of her. "And I am sorry too, for ever doubting you. But don't worry about taking care of them. I think that I did alright on my own."

He smiled against her lips, perhaps liking this newer, more vicious iteration of Hermione now that she'd seen what the real world was like. "Did you?"

"Yes, Draco's been disbarred and his father is going to jail," she said, mewling at the feel of his fingers pulling down the cup of her bra so that nothing was left in between them. It was funny how she couldn't find it in herself to care that they were out in the open, pressed against the dusty facade of the bar that had changed her life. "Officer _Parkinson_ ," Hermione sneered, "is also going to jail. Apparently the DEA doesn't take kindly to police officers liberating evidence rooms of large quantities of drugs."

Fenrir laughed loudly at her pronouncement. It was a bit silly to have the girl's vicious nature not focused on him, but rather on someone who had crossed her. Still, it was good to hear that things really were handled on that front. He kissed her then, wanting to consume her.

Fenrir and Hermione were so wrapped up in each other that neither one of them heard the screen door slam open, but they did hear the string of expletives that left Sirius's mouth. "See, I told you that everything was alright," Remus said delightfully from where he stood next to his friend. They both looked a little worse for wear, as though they may have tussled with each other.

"Fuck. This is why I never had children of my own," Sirius said, running his hand across his face. "Hermione, what the fuck are you doing? I came here to give Greyback a piece of my mind, _not_ my blessing."

Hermione blushed, before slapping Fenrir on the arm to get him to put her down on her wobbly legs. She turned to face Sirius, trying to smooth out her wild hair. "Um. Fenrir and I made up," she said simply. "And now, we are going to go get some dinner, if that's alright with you?" she asked, knowing that it was Sirius's first night as a free man, and he was likely looking to get himself out too.

Sirius sighed, looking Fenrir up and down. There was a bit of a bruise beginning to form on the other man's face. "Fine. I will let you go, but only if you are back by your curfew."

"Sirius, I don't have a curfew," Hermione told him, bewildered. Just when did he start taking his guardianship so seriously? Besides, she was eighteen already, a legal adult, so really, could he even give her a curfew?

"You do now," her guardian said, giving her a pointed look. "You will be home absolutely no later than one o'clock. And that's only because it's a Saturday. If it were a school night, well, it would be an entirely different story."

"Sounds good!" Hermione replied, giving Sirius a quick hug, while Fenrir walked over to his motorcycle, turning it on. "Oh, and by the way, there might be a small coyote pup in our house. I, um, kind of adopted it, while you were gone," she told Sirius in a rush, before bidding him goodbye and hopping on the back of Fenrir's bike, taking the helmet from his hands.

He turned to look at her. "Peach, don't tell me that you actually let that mangy little coyote into your house," he said with a teasing tone.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "What? I was lonely!" She wrapped her arms around his waist, but he just gave her a pointed look. "I gave him a bath before I let him sleep in bed with me," she explained, though it didn't seem to convince him any further. "He is really sweet, and a bit cuddly. Just like you."

"Oh, you think I'm cuddly, do you?" Fenrir asked. Before she could answer, he was turning around, revving the engine, and pulling out onto the dusty stretch of highway, before Sirius could change his mind on the date. With Hermione's hands pressed inside the fabric of his leather jacket, Fenrir knew that she was worth it, even if it meant sharing her with a coyote pup.


	19. Chapter 19

"What can I get for you?" Hermione asked, pressing her hands into the bar and leaning forward to her most persistent customer of the evening. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes when what could only be described as a dumb college bro looked her up and down slowly.

She'd been working at this campus bar at Arizona State for two years now, and it was so much different from working at Howl, but one constant remained. She always got bigger tips if she flirted a little bit with her customers. The dress code was certainly different here — black v-necks and jeans — but it didn't change that guys always seemed to be enthralled by her ass. She always made sure to bend over slowly when she had to get something out of one of the coolers. It was a shame, though, that these boys weren't nearly as fun to flirt with as Theo was.

"Yeah, give me a tequila shot and bud light," he asked. Hermione obliged, getting him the beer first, before she was distracted by a dumb girl who just shouted her drink order at her. Although Hermione found it a little bit rude, she quickly poured the girl her vodka soda — with lime _not_ lemon! — before passing it down.

While she was there, she took the opportunity to check in with her lonely customer. He was clearly not like the rest of the clientele, who were normally dumb college students. This customer wasn't interacting with anyone, and fairly brooding, meaning that none of the other bartenders wanted to touch him with a ten foot pole. "How are you doing, honey? Anything else I can get you? I am about to close out my shift."

The other man just tipped his whiskey glass at her, before shooing her away.

Getting back to her original customer, she pulled out a shot glass before pouring him his tequila, grabbing him a lime and the salt shaker. "Maybe I could lick this off of you?" He asked, lifting up the little shaker that she'd given him, and giving her a suggestive wink that she was sure made some silly sorority girl swoon.

Hermione couldn't stop her snort. "I don't think that's a good idea," she said with a smirk.

"Why not? I'll give you a good tip if you let me," he pressed a little bit harder. Sure, Hermione liked getting tips, but she wasn't _that_ hard up. She certainly wasn't going to let a stranger lick her, just because he promised to tip her.

She leaned against the bar waiting for him to lean in to her. "Because I have a boyfriend who gets really, _really_ jealous. And he's not afraid to do something when he thinks someone is trying to get with his girl," she said with a smirk. "He's really big and scary, and trust me, you wouldn't hold a chance against him."

"Well, he's not here now, is he?" the boy asked, looking left and right dramatically.

"Actually he is," a voice growled, next to his ear, totally taking the college boy by surprise. Fenrir had wrapped his arm around the other guy, so that he couldn't try to slip away. "I think that you were trying to scam on my girl. You were trying to get with her, weren't you?"

"No sir," the boy said, obviously frightened to be confronted by the burly biker. Honestly, Fenrir was probably the scariest individual this boy had ever encountered, with his impressive height and his more impressive physique. A lot of guys on campus tried to show off their measly muscles, but none of them held a candle to Fenrir.

"Are you telling me you _don't_ like my girl? You don't like the way that she looks?" Fenrir prodded, knowing that it was making him very uncomfortable. "Are you saying that she isn't the best looking girl in this place?"

Hermione blushed at that, thinking that many of the other girls at the bar were really much prettier than she was, but not wanting to correct him or anything. Really, she was just still so glad that her relationship with Fenrir was still going strong despite the shift to a distance relationship, with her living in Tempe for school. Of course they were practically inseparable over summer breaks, but it was hard not being able to see each other all the time when she had classes.

"She is very pretty sir," the boy said, his eyes begging her for some kind of help that Hermione wasn't inclined to give because he hadn't heeded her warning.

"Well, why don't you pay the lady? Give her a nice tip because she is about to leave and she's had to put up with your bullshit all night. Believe me, I've been listening from my spot at the bar," Fenrir said, waiting until the boy pulled out his wallet and gave her a _very_ generous tip. Hermione took the offered bills happily, before turning around to take out her tips for the night.

Once she was clocked out, she waved goodbye to her coworkers before turning and smiling at Fenrir. The college boy had run away as soon as Fenrir had let him go. Pulling on her own leather jacket, Hermione wrapped her arm around Fenrir's waist. "You shouldn't let them get to you," she admonished him. "You know that you have nothing to worry about."

"I know that you'd never do anything with one of these losers," Fenrir said with a snort. "But you have no idea how painful it is to watch you flirt with them _all_ night, knowing that I can't do anything about it." He pulled her in for a possessive kiss, just in case she'd forgotten how well they fit together.

"I only do it because it gets you so riled up," Hermione said with a grin. "And I love to get you riled up." She bit her lower lip, knowing that he found it particularly irresistible. She didn't get to see Fenrir that often, so she always tried to take advantage of what time that they did have together. "And, you know that it gets me better tips."

Fenrir scoffed, perhaps knowing that it was true and he wouldn't be able to deny it. "I just wish that you didn't have to keep working here. You know that Sirius has enough money that you wouldn't have to work another day in your life, and even if he didn't I would help out."

Hermione stopped him in front of the little taqueria, deciding that she'd much rather get a takeaway and eat at home with Fenrir rather than going through the production of getting dinner somewhere, when all she wanted to do was be snuggled up to him. "Fenrir, you know that I like paying my own way," she scolded him. "And, having a tip income is a good way to cover up some of our profits."

Once Sirius was out of jail, Hermione had sat him down and had a long conversation with him about just what his relation to the Iron Wolves was, and if he was an associated member like Remus was. She reminded him that she had looked at his books, and while the forensic accountant wasn't able to _prove_ anything, it was clear to her that he was helping them launder money through his real estate deals. It took a bit of cajoling, but eventually, Sirius did come clean to her and let her know that he used real estate purchases all over the Southwest to help launder the Iron Wolves money, although he had never been a member. He'd gotten involved through Remus, when they were still just in their twenties.

After that, Hermione insisted that she be able to help. She was a part of the family and like it or not, she was now a known associate of Fenrir's, so it wasn't as if she wasn't already on the police's radar. They had her mugshot.

He was even less enthused to have that conversation, but eventually he gave in. Sirius bought her a fabulous condo in Tempe, which really, no college student had any business living in, and it would just be another way that they passed money though to more legitimate means. Hermione also started claiming some of the drug money in with her tips from working at the bar. It was a bit of an odd situation, but she liked to feel like she was helping out.

And it meant that Fenrir had to come up to visit her at least once a week to drop off a small amount of money for her to incorporate. It was a fact that neither one of them could complain about.

"That's true," Fenrir said sullenly, before placing their order at the window. "I just hate thinking about all the times that I am not there," he growled. "All those guys thinking that they have a chance with you."

Hermione rolled her eyes, taking the bag of tacos before leading Fenrir off towards his bike so that they could go home. "You know that I can handle these guys right? I hit Rabastan over the head with a bottle," she reminded him. It was true that some of the college guys could be a little bit pushy, but none of them compared to the level of aggressiveness that Rabastan had shown towards her. After him, none of them even scared her.

Settling on the back of the bike, Hermione sighed, holding on to Fenrir's waist. She couldn't wait for the day that she was done with school and could move back home and they could spend more time together. She was grateful to see him once a week, but her mind was filled with images of them living together, romping in bed on lazy mornings, making breakfast together, throwing the ball in the backyard for her coyote, whom Fenrir had named Lucky (because he was lucky he was still around). She couldn't hide her smirk from that thought. As if Fenrir would ever play with Lucky.

She and Fenrir didn't talk much about the future, each of them content with what they had for now, though Hermione was always a little bit worried that he would get sick of the distance and suddenly think that she wasn't worth it.

They walked up to her condo in silence, holding hands. Once they were in the kitchen, Fenrir went about getting drinks, while Hermione got the plates. Before she could reach them, though, he was grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around, setting her up on the countertop and stepping between her welcoming legs. This seemed to be a favorite position of his, though he had shown her that he was just as good at having sex in a bed. Fenrir had always been a very generous lover, all consuming and dominating and driven to pull his name from her lips.

He kissed her passionately, hands cupping her face to hold her just the way that he wanted her, while he pressed his hardness against her center. She moaned into him, thinking that it had really been far too long since they did this. Breaking away from her, he looked into her eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust. "Fuck, I wish I could do this to you in front of all those fuckers to show them who you really belong to."

Hermione bit her lower lip, and rocked her hips into his, his words sending a thrill up her spine. "I'm yours, all yours." She leaned into him until their foreheads were touching. "And you're mine. Dinner can wait. Take me to bed," she bossed him, squealing when he lifted her up and carried her into her bedroom.

She knew that she and Fenrir made a bit of an unusual pair, but she didn't care what anyone else thought. She just wanted him, and she was excited to see what the future had in store for them.


End file.
